Archive for love

Back Together! Sarah Silverman & Jimmy Kimmel Hug/Hump It Out

Posted in Feminism (Shades of Gray), Friendship, I Heart Funny Femmes, I Heart My Love-Tribe, Romance & Relationships, Sex & XXX, TV with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , on October 9, 2008 by alphabetfiend

“Super freak, super freak. That girl’s a super freak. Ohhhhh. She’s a very kinky girl. The kind you don’t take home to mother. She will never let your spirits down. Once you get her off the street, ow girl.”  — Rick James, bitch!

Looks like Sarah Silverman & Jimmy Kimmel are back on. Thank Goof! I don’t normally give a shite about the trials and tribulations of celebrity couples but I loved this pair. They were my Brad & Angelina. Except, y’know, totally gross.

head over heels in love?

head over heels in love?

Ah, when two freaks find each other… makes my heart go pitter pat. When wierdos wed, I break out my silk hankie and weep at the cosmic wonder of the world. So I was (dare I say it?) devastated when I heard that Jimmy Kimmel & Sarah Silverman had separated. I kicked them out of the freak museum and cast them as fools. The break was reportedly mutual but a sad Silverman on TMZ begged differently. Was Kimmel was the only fool in this snafu? Fool! Fool! Fucker! Fatso! I hate you Jimmy Kimmel! Then I read in US that while dining with a friend, Sarah

“grew somber and became enthralled in a heart-to-heart conversation with her pal. She was talking and it looked like he was listening and then advising her. Mutual friend Jonah Hill – who has appeared in comedy skits on Kimmel’s ABC show – was dining in the restaurant and also stopped by to say hello. Jonah’s appearance definitely had an effect on her. They spoke for just a minute. And after he left, Sarah looked momentarily pensive.”

I wanted to spit a loogy in Kimmel’s squinty eyes. My hate surged when Silverman won an Emmy for the “I’m Fucking Matt Damon”video which, ironically, was a 5 year anniversary gift for Kimmel. While accepting the  award, Silverman said

“Thanks to the person for whom this whole video was made: Jimmy Kimmel, who broke my heart – ohh, who’ll always have a place in my heart.” 

Big fat juicy tears welled up in my eyes. Maybe I wasn’t the only one? The Enquirer claimed that Jimmy was making beg-some blotto phonecalls and now, a month later, the pair’s been spotted pawing each other. No one’s officially copped to it (although Kimmel copped a feel in front of photogs.) Barbara Walters tried to worm it out of Silverman on “The View” but Silverman sweetly deflected,

“In total respect to you and your legendness, I do not feel beholden or compelled to define my personal relationship to you. It’s not like a big drama thing. We’re just not, like, defining it. We’re just being right now. Is that Okaaay?”

Yes! It’s OK. It’s more than OK. It’s a beauteous thing. But if there’s gonna be any more heart break, it better be Kimmel’s. Next time Silverman better fuck Matt Damon for reals! Except she doesn’t want Matt Damon, she wants Jimmy. Silverman (who describes herself as “a 13 year old boy”) once said of their romance,

“We really, really, really like each other.”

Silverman hasn’t always felt that way. On the occasion of their 2001 meeting at a Comedy Central roast of Playboy’s patriarch Hugh Hefner, Silverman said of Roastmaster Kimmel,

“Jimmy Kimmel, everyone. He’s fat and has no charisma. Watch your back, Danny Aiello .”

And Kimmel hasn’t always been such an ingrate, saying of his bawdy belle,

“Sarah is funny and smart and good to look at. Plus, she likes fat guys. What more could I ask?”

I was gonna hate Jimmy Kimmel forever if he didn’t wise up and win back his lunatic ladylove. Hopefully he realized that he’ll never find a cutie more suitable a soul mate than Sarah Silverman. I wasn’t a Kimmel-fan before he dated Silverman (who I adore like a best friend who asks you at 3am if you could please go digging around in her cooch cause she’s sure she lost a tampon up there somewhere.) Although, like Sarah, I love a man with with a big belly laugh and the belly to go with. It was Kimmel’s ability to attract Silverman and the things she said of him that made me a fan. So shoot me already for even giving a damn. I usually shrug at celebrity fray so how did I get into such a huff over Hollywood fluff?  They’re too freaky-deeky to be fluff. After five funny years, I was hooked on the dynamic duo. Maybe I’m star-farked and dumb but I’m not the only one.  

The Evil Beet blogged, “After breaking all our hearts by splitting up, it looks like Sarah Silverman and Jimmy Kimmel are back in each other’s hearts and pants. As much as I hate Jimmy Kimmel, this is kind of heart warming. You just hate to see true love broken apart.”

To which someone commented,”Disclaimer: I kind of hate them both. That said, YIPPEE! I am so relieved! I don’t know why their breakup totally bugged me, but it did.”

The Superficial rejoiced, “Sarah Silverman and Jimmy Kimmel have reunited after getting chased out of their respective villages with torches.”

See! It’s not just me! I’m not the only auntie who wants those two love birds to build a nice nest. (Silverman has stated publicly that she won’t marry until gay marriage is legalized. Yay!) More aptly, I’m one half – the pretty half – of my own perverted partnership and I can’t help but crave a double date with those two. We could get kicked out of yacht clubs together! Pose for inebriated photos! Sarah and I could share lipstick in the ladies room and then maybe a few french kisses which we’d later blame on our drunkenness. We could go bowling or get stoned. Pig out and then lay around on Turkish floor pillows, listen to a few records and fart.

Funny thing: the pair we usually pal around with — Peaches Peltz and the Prof –have often been subjected to my sage advice:

“You two freaks need to stick together! ‘Til Freakdom Cum! Ain’t nobody gonna get either of youse. No one else’d get the joke.”

 

These two freaks need to stick together!

Hold on tight, freaks!

So it brings me pervy peace to hear that Silverman & Kimmel are back in one another’s hairy arms. Wallowing in one another’s hilarious hearts. They’re a kooky, brave, insanely irreverent pair. And adorable. And sexy! So sexy. I once watched as some A-list blonde used her guest spot on “The Jimmy Kimmel Show” to recount a Sundance Film Fest story about staying in an adjoining hotel room to the raunchy couple. Who, in true form, spent the trip engaged in all manner of loud naughtiness. Nice. 

An interviewer once asked Silverman if she had a pet name for Kimmel’s Penis. Sarah cooed, “I just call it HOME.”

Awwwww.

Welcome home, Sarah. Surely you’ve been sorely missed.

“That girl is pretty wild now. The girl’s a super freak. The kind of girl you read about in new-wave magazine. That girl is pretty kinky, she’s a super freak, super freak, she’s super-freaky, yow. Super freak, super freak. She’s a very special girl. The kind of girl you want to know. From her head down to her toenails” 

******************************************* 

Alphabetfiend is Dia VanGunten — A-TX writer girl who loves a super freak. Take’s one to love one. Right, Daddy? You’ve been gone too long. I miss you like hell. It’s thanks to you that I recognize the beauty in a beasty freak. You were so right. If you meet a member of your tribe, hold on. Don’t lose sight. Us freaks need to stick together. Maybe you can send that wisdom via some ghosty means to these two kids or else I fear they’ll be lonely forever. Oh, lonely. I’m so lonely for you. October 9. The worst day ever. But today’s OK, I guess. I wrote this for you. Did ya see the part about getting tossed out of the yacht club? Wink wink. I love you, you handsome devil!

Lori Gottlieb’s Shot Gun Wedding: She says Settle, I say “I Do” to Love

Posted in Feminism (Shades of Gray), Friendship, Hooray for Choice!, I Heart My Love-Tribe, Intuition & Gut Intelligence, Psyche & Sexuality, Romance, Romance & Relationships with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , on October 7, 2008 by alphabetfiend

 

A friend of mine was bummed after discovering an article in the Atlantic that urged women to settle. She emailed it to me with a one-word message: “depressing.” After reading the tedious thing, I didn’t feel depressed so much as annoyed. The writer Lori Gottlieb might as well be holding a shotgun to women’s heads and shoving them towards the unsuitable mate that awaits them at the altar.  She thinks she knows what we all want and need.

“Ask any soul-baring 40-year-old single heterosexual woman what she most longs for in life. Most likely, she’ll say that what she really wants is a husband (and, by extension, a child). To the outside world, of course, we still call ourselves feminists and insist—vehemently, even—that we’re independent and self-sufficient and don’t believe in any of that damsel-in-distress stuff, but in reality, we aren’t fish who can do without a bicycle, we’re women who want a traditional family. Every woman I know—no matter how successful and ambitious, how financially and emotionally secure—feels panic, occasionally coupled with desperation, if she hits 30 and finds herself unmarried. Oh, I know—I’m guessing there are single 30-year-old women reading this right now who will be writing letters to the editor to say that the women I know aren’t widely representative, that I’ve been co-opted by the cult of the feminist backlash, and basically, that I have no idea what I’m talking about. And all I can say is, if you say you’re not worried, either you’re in denial or you’re lying.”
What a presumptuous A-hole. “If you’re not worried, get worried. If you’re happy where you’re at, you’re a filthy liar.” Here it comes: YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT. Obviously Ms. Gottlieb wishes she were a Missus who’d made different choices. That’s cool. It’s her right to assess her own life. But, if she’s made such a mess of things, should she really be giving the rest of us advice?
“My advice is this: Settle! That’s right. Don’t worry about passion or intense connection. Don’t nix a guy based on his annoying habit of yelling “Bravo!” in movie theaters. Overlook his halitosis or abysmal sense of aesthetics. Because if you want to have the infrastructure in place to have a family, settling is the way to go.”
I, for one, don’t want to be saddled with someone whose breath curdles. And a fella with no taste, no thanks. I’m a voluptuary who would be desolate if stuck with a man who couldn’t appreciate the gorgeous shoes on my feet — satin peeptoe wedges, the satin printed with swirling fishes. Who didn’t even notice as I ooed & ahhed over them.  Who wouldn’t then secretly order them and present them to me on my birthday with a card that read “Shoes for the mermaid who walks on land.” This man exists. But had I married previous suitors, what then?

“Those of us who choose not to settle in hopes of finding a soul mate later are almost like teenagers who believe they’re invulnerable to dying in a drunk-driving accident. We lose sight of our mortality. We forget that we, too, will age and become less alluring. Which is all the more reason to settle before settling is no longer an option.”

No wonder she gave my friend the blues. Frankly, it pisses me off. I want to grab my friend by her luscious shoulders and shake the shit outta her. Don’t listen to the fear-monger egg-hoarder Lori Gottlieb. Her creepy advice is misguided at best and dangerous at worst.

“By 40, if you get a cold shiver down your spine at the thought of embracing a certain guy, but you enjoy his company… is that settling or making an adult compromise?”

If my friend came home from a date and said “Yea, I enjoyed his company but then when he hugged me, I got the cold chills, whaddaya think?”  RUN!  Pump them knees, change your number, block his emails. Too often women ignore their guts out of misguided politeness or because they think they are being “shallow” when really their body is trying to tell them that something is veryy wrong. Maybe the guy’s a misogynist rapist or maybe he’s just a really bad match genetically. Or spiritually. We are animals with animal instincts/signals.

  1. Another friend had a guy pal who she wanted to dig. “He’s so kind and he really likes me, ” she’d say. One night she woke up in a ice cold sweat with a stomach full of stones to find him in bed with her. After months and numerous apologies, she finally gave in to his advances. He turned out to be a cruel bastard and a cheat. I was about to say “Your tummy told you so” when she burst out crying, “That night, my skin was crawling, I wanted to puke, I knew who he was. I always knew.”
  2. When my mom was a young reckless hitchhiker she accepted a ride from a guy who was handsome and charming. She settled into his V-Dub Bug and they began to chat congenially. She was thinking “What a nice guy,” when suddenly her whole body revolted against that thought.  She bailed but years later she saw a photo in the newspaper and recognized the handsome face. He was the infamous serial killer Ted Bundy. If my mom hadn’t listened to her inner-alarm, I wouldn’t even be here.
  3. I resisted the friendship of a girl who I found annoying and “ugly.” Her presense agitated me, her voice made my skin crawl. I struggled with immense guilt, grossed out by my own unkindness. When I yielded to her pursuit, things quickly spiraled into a terrifying single-white-female situation. Even in friendship, it’s a mistake to settle.

Lori Gottlieb’s advice is reckless and reeks of desperation. Don’t listen to her, listen to yourself. Don’t listen to your guilt, listen to your gut. This is the real world, with real dangers. It’s not an episode of “Friends.”

“And while Rachel and her supposed soul mate, Ross, finally get together (for the umpteenth time) in the finale of Friends, do we feel confident that she’ll be happier with Ross than she would have been had she settled down with Barry, the orthodontist, 10 years earlier?”

Rachael did lots of growing and changing in those ten years. And wasn’t Barry a total creepoid? Didn’t he pull some real skeezy stuff? I seem to recall something about Barry getting married but still trying to get into Rachael’s pants and then some weird vengeful ick at his own wedding right in front of the woman he was settling for. Which is the problem with settling. It’s not a good deal no matter how you look at it, for any of the parties involved.

It’s equally questionable whether Sex and the City’s Carrie Bradshaw, who cheated on her kindhearted and generous boyfriend, Aidan, only to end up with the more exciting but self-absorbed Mr. Big, will be better off. (Some time after the breakup, when Carrie ran into Aidan on the street, he was carrying his infant in a Baby Björn. Can anyone imagine Mr. Big walking around with a Björn?)

Aidan’s lucky Carrie didn’t settle. He wanted something else and he got it. Good for him. As for Carrie, it’s hard to say. Big did leave her at the altar but Carrie still chooses to deal with Big’s damage. For better or for worse. Carrie may not even want kids, in which case Big is a much better choice than Aidan ever was. Whose to say that even if Carrie had married Aidan that he wouldn’t have still gone on to fall in love with that baby-mama? Settling is strewn with sticky wickets.

“I’ll likely need to settle for someone who is settling for me…. My friend Alan justified his choice of a ‘bland’ wife with whom he shares little connection this way: ‘I think one-stop shopping is overrated. I get passion at my office with my work, or with my friends that I sometimes call or chat with—it’s not the same, and, boy, it would be exciting to have it with my spouse. But I spend more time with people at my office than I do with my spouse.”

Who want’s to be weighed down by someone who has “settled” for you and who shares more passion and spends more time with people at the office? What about that is “family friendly”? Let’s raise up some damaged kids who someday someone will settle for. The guy who gives you the shivers, with whom there is no sexual connection, maybe you will look back one day and say “Is it any wonder?” But it will be too late then. He’ll have already raped your daughter in her little girl gingham bedroom. From the time she was 5 ’til he she ran away and joined a cult at 15.  Sure, you want a partner in parenthood, but is the wrong partner better than none at all? How many childhoods have been shattered because selfish mothers believed a bad man was better than no man?  

“They, like me, would rather feel alone in a marriage than actually be alone. In practice, my married friends with kids don’t spend that much time with their husbands anyway, and in many cases, their biggest complaint seems to be that they never see each other. So if you rarely see your husband—but he’s a decent guy who takes out the trash and sets up the baby gear —how much does it matter whether the guy you marry is The One?

If you never see your husband and if what you know about him is “he’s a decent guy who takes out the trash” then what the hell is he doing in your home with your kids? Are you sure he’s a such a decent guy? Ask your daughter. She might know a lot more about him than you do. Ask your doctor when you go for that HIV test because if you’re not blowing him, who is?

In my formative years, romance was John Cusack and Ione Skye in Say Anything. But when I think about marriage nowadays, my role models are the television characters Will and Grace, who, though Will was gay and his relationship with Grace was platonic, were one of the most romantic couples I can think of. So what if Will and Grace weren’t having sex with each other? How many long- married couples are having much sex anyway?

If Grace had decided to spend her life with Will and raise a few kids, I’d say what I always say, “Hooray for Choice!”  Grace knows Will inside out. He’s a good person with a lot of love to give. And who says a family has to be what it’s always been? Lori Gottlieb says so. She’s not saying “grab a pal, raise some kids, be happy.” She’s holding a shotgun to your temple and saying “Settle. Or Else.” Will and Grace almost went that route, they came very close, but then they got swept up in romance and raised kids with their honey-pies. Either ending is acceptable. Hooray for choice! Goof love it. But Gottlieb says, “Don’t be choosy.” 

Screw that, I’m as choosy as it gets, I’m a modern girl that way. Over time I realized I was too much of an exhibitionist Ham to be with a jealous man, too wary to be with a sheltered mama’s boy, too liquid to be with a man who wanted to box me in (I leaked through the cracks and defied definition.) Eventually I met a man in the Laundromat. A punk rock Robot genius with a heart of gold. His take on this: “I used to wonder about you all the time but I never thought you actually existed. I thought I’d wait forever but I was waiting.” The vision he had of me defied all logic, where was that wierdo anyway? And then, one day, there I was — with 16 overflowing laundry baskets stuffed to the gills with silky bits — and wearing a vintage 1970’s Prostitutes Union t-shirt. He’d been waiting for me… so he was single. And I’d been picky… so I was able to pick him right out. You look really familiar. Don’t I know you from somewhere? 

Problem with your shotgun wedding is that someone's liable to end up a bloody mess.

Problem with your shotgun wedding is it's liable to end up a bloody mess.

Bitch, if you don’t get that shotgun out of my friend’s unbearably beautiful face, I’m gonna wrest it away and shoot you with it. Now Go. Go. And don’t come around here no more. Bang bang.

 Alphabetfiend is a writer & a prime choice luxury cut. Eat that!

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