And Don’t Call Me Sweetheart

Y’all, it may surprise you to hear this, but I don’t like Ashley Judd. It used to be a low-level hate, based mostly on her complete lack of acting ability and her face, but it’s recently risen to a DEFCON 1, maybe 2, level of hate. And, shockingly, this change in opinion is entirely unrelated to her face or lack of talent (both of which I still find fairly offensive). Apparently I’m growing as a person. I know. I’m pretty impressed with myself too.

Actually, that’s not entirely true. This new level of hate does come courtesy of her face – or at least part of it. It’s her mouth, or, more specifically, the nonsense it spews, that elicits such ire. I admit, this isn’t a new occurrence. She’s been spewing nonsense for years. Most celebrities do. But this newest nonsense offends me to my glittery core. In fact, it’s a glitterocity.

Yes, Ashley Judd’s stupidity hit Kanye levels in a recent Facebook Live post. In case you don’t feel like subjecting yourself to the insanity perpetuated in the video below, let me give you the CliffsNotes version. It all boils down to this: Ashley Judd finds it very offensive when a man calls her sweetheart. Or compliments her dress. This is, as she calls it, “everyday sexism.” That’s it in a nutshell, but in case you’re a masochist (as I apparently am) and would like a little more detail, here you go:

Ashley Judd, she who has singlehandedly taken up the fight for all women, one airport security officer at a time, recently found herself, no surprise, in an airport security line. So far so good. But it’s what happened next that really offended her delicate sensibilities.

Please brace yourself. What she was forced to endure is truly appalling and may not be suitable for the faint of heart. No human should ever be treated with such disregard.

As Princess Ashley was making her way through security, one of the guards said, wait for it, “hey, sweetheart.” What??!? The gall of him. I’m almost overwhelmed with fury. How. Dare. He. Not one to stand for such disrespect, our fearless leader, Ashley the Magnificent, quickly put this vile human in his place. She quickly reminded him that a) she wasn’t his sweetheart, and b) she was his client. Does her awesomeness know no bounds? Katemazing better watch out. There may be a new savior in town.

Unfortunately this encounter would get worse before it got better. (I know it’s tough, but we’ll get through this together.) After the peasant was reminded that he was *cough* essentially her Highness’s employee, he had the audacity to—it’s almost too upsetting to say—compliment her dress. You just can’t make this stuff up. I’m sure you would agree that this is a most egregious display of sexism, especially because She of the “nice dress” didn’t hear him compliment anyone else’s dress. I mean, obviously the compliment had nothing to do with him possibly trying to make a nice impression on a famous person. Or trying to rebound from the tongue-lashing he had just received for offending her female sensibilities. No, the only logical explanation is that he was a total sexist pig.

But, wait. There’s more.

As she was moving through the line, this presumptuous, sexist monster deigned to touch her holiness. I know. I know. It’s too much. I can’t imagine the horror. I have never been touched in an airport security line, nor have I ever seen anyone touched—incidentally or otherwise—in an airport security line; so, yet again, the only logical conclusion is that he was belittling and sexisming her.

But, wait. There’s still more. Seriously, just when you thought it couldn’t get worse...

As if he hadn’t already insulted her enough, as she gathered her belongings, trying to put this whole sordid affair behind her, this cad, this dog, this vile human being said, prepare yourself, “Have a good day, sweetheart.” I know. It’s too much. I am completely disheartened by the inhumanity of it all. How can we treat each other with such disrespect? It’s truly sickening. Perhaps you can’t know the true heinousness of the crime unless you watch the video below. But please, please if you have children in the room, remove them before watching it. Children shouldn’t have to be subjected to such ugliness.

Guys, I can’t. Considering this is a woman who is famous solely for her last name and boobs – which, incidentally, she apparently has no issue displaying ad nauseam on film – she takes herself way, way too seriously. Maybe this guy was just being nice. I’ve certainly been called honey, or sweetie, or yes even *gasp* sweetheart a time or two—by both men and women—and I’ve never found it to be particularly offensive. In fact, I almost consider it a term of endearment. Perhaps it’s my southern roots. But, then, Ashley (or perhaps that’s too familiar; would you prefer I call you Ms. Judd, sweetheart?) grew up in Kentucky so who the hell knows what her problem is?

What I am fairly certain of, however, is that turning this into another gender war is just stupid. It simplifies the issue way too much, completely dumbing it down. (Of course, this is the woman who called a conveyer belt a doohickey, so not a huge surprise.) I worked with a lovely woman this summer, the office momager if you will, who called everyone baby. Men and women alike. It didn’t feel offensive or disrespectful. But, then, I wasn’t looking for things to be offended by. Perhaps that’s the difference. And to be fair, I’ve heard plenty of women refer to men, both young and old, as sweetie or honey. Would this have elicited the same response from Her Majassty? I’m guessing no.

But if you thought all of the above was the purpose of this post, you would be wrong. Let me explain why I find this type of rant so offensive: Sexism exists. It’s an unfortunate commentary on the world, but there it is. There are women who are grossly mistreated or underestimated simply because they are women, both internationally and at home. So when a pampered princess like Ashley Judd goes on a rant because some peasant called her sweetheart, she minimizes and dilutes every legitimate claim of sexism that follows. People become so immune to the claims, so numb, that they can no longer be incensed – or even sympathetic – to authentic cries of sexism. That’s what she should be railing against: the false claims, those that lessen the legitimacy of every real one.

But of course she’s not doing that. Why do something that matters when instead you can waste everyone’s time with your elitist, easily offended, nonsense, while simultaneously slandering a guy who was probably just trying to do his job – and was perhaps a little star struck as well? All while wearing a giant floppy hat. In an airport. To avoid attention, I’m sure.

And speaking of her appearance, since she basically dared me to address it, does anyone else find it ironic that a woman who presents herself as such an I-am-woman-hear-me-roar, don’t-call-me-sweetie kind of gal has had so much plastic surgery? Do you suppose she did it for herself, to fulfill some deep-seated need within her? Because, I mean, surely she didn’t do it for a man. That would be entirely unacceptable, completely sad and utterly pathetic. After all, strong women don’t need a man’s approval.

They do, however, apparently need a lot of Botox and Restylane.

Celebrating the Similar

We at ATG love a good doppelgänger. From celebs to athletes, we love calling attention to each other’s similarities. After all, if we could only learn to focus on our similarities instead of our differences, wouldn’t the world, nay the universe, be a better place? But that’s ATG for you. Making the universe a better place one blog post at a time.

So in the interest of our continued role as the great uniters of the universe, the role you’ve come to expect from us, we bring you this doppelgänger-filled celebration of similarities, sure to unite all the land. And for this installment, we have chosen to highlight the Real Housewives. Heaven knows they could use an extra shot or two of love and light – and perhaps a couple fewer of Botox and Restylane.

Now, don’t expect us to go for the low-hanging fruit. We’ve never been ones to take the easy route. There will be no comparisons of New Jersey’s Melissa Gorga to a horse, nor Beverly Hills’s Kyle Richards to Demi Moore (honestly, I think Kyle looks more like The Firm’s Jennifer Carman anyway), nor even New Jersey’s Joe Guidice to a hobbit. No, we won’t mention a word of it.

And it is precisely because we aim a little higher that our comparisons may take a little more work to see, but I assure you that they aren’t any less true. At least in my head. And if you’ve learned anything by now, dear readers, it’s that if it exists in my head, it’s gospel.

[Disclaimer: As I’m sure we all know, doppelgängers don’t always look super doppelgängy when put side-by-side, so I would encourage you to approach this post as you would an abstract painting. Don’t look directly at the pictures, or, if you must, perhaps try to blur your vision a little. But however you choose to examine it, all I ask is that you bear with me, even if the similarities aren’t super obvious to you at first. After all, we’re trying to unite here. And the first step to unification is agreeing with everything I say.]

Now, without further ado, I give you...  

New York’s Sonja Morgan as Barbra Streisand

Her Ladyship (L) and that Funny Lady (R)

Sonja Morgan, everyone’s favorite delusional diva. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if she fancied herself a bit of a Barbra. She is, after all, very important. With very important friends. It’s probably why she finds it necessary to have interns “working” for her. I’m not entirely sure why you need interns (that’s internS, plural) when you don’t have a job, but I guess those care packages for your daughter don’t pack themselves.

New York’s Carole Radziwill as Nicky Hilton

The princess (L) and the heiress (R)

Ironically, Nicky Hilton is the niece of another Housewives “star,” Kyle Richards, as well as the sister of the infamous Paris Hilton, who "we" obviously all know from her “work” in the “film” 1 Night in Paris (not coming to a theater near you and not in any way safe for work).

Carole, on the other hand, was married to Jackie Kennedy’s nephew, who also happened to be a prince. Of something. This makes Carole a princess. I used to think the only thing princess-like about her was her title, but this season she’s begun to take on a bit of a princess attitude as well. And not in a good way. Apparently her new role as BFF to the insufferable Bethenny Frankel and cougar to a vegan chef makes her better than everyone else. Newsflash, Carole: You’re on a reality show. You’re not out curing cancer. You spend your days curling your hair, plumping your lips, and judging people. I’m not saying I don’t support all of these activities, but if the toughest decision you make all day is whether to wear waterproof or non-waterproof mascara, you don’t have much of a leg (of superiority) to stand on. Sorry, princess.

And speaking of the miserable Bethenny Frankel…

New York’s Bethenny Frankel as The Grinch

I know. It's hard to tell which is the actual Grinch.
They're both so unlikeable. 

I completely understand why you may not have ever noticed this similarity. I only see it when she smiles, which pretty much never happens. Because she’s an insufferable witch. Perhaps she needs a little (more?) Who-pudding, a little more spontaneous singing, and/or a little more circle time in her life so that her Grinch-sized heart can do a little growing itself.

But I’m not holding my breath.

Orange County’s Lydia McLaughlin as the sea creatures from The Little Mermaid

It’s the eyes, guys. It’s all in the eyes. Lydia has very large eyes. (Thank you, Captain Obvious.) But I’m not being critical. Seriously. In fact, she’s done quite well for herself considering she’s the daughter of a woman who is not only a serious pothead, but who also fancies herself a fairy. I mean, Lydia’s mom may be a very well-to-do pothead/fairy, but she’s a pothead/fairy none the less.

I’m starting to think, though, that maybe this comparison is a little mean; completely true, but mean. And she does seem like a nice lady. Maybe we can find a more complimentary comparison.

Is this better?

C’mon! Sebastian is adorable!

Okay, how about this? A Disney princess matched with a girl whose mom sprinkles fairy dust on strangers. Perfect.

By the way, this post is already longer than Lydia’s entire time on Orange County.

But since we’re on the topic of princesses –

New York’s Dorinda Medley as Princess Diana

The laundry-loving lady (L) and Lady Diana (R)

Unlike Dorinda, I would assume that Diana (RIP) never got naked wasted in public, nor would she have settled for a vertically – slash – horizontally challenged, red-faced, dry cleaner boyfriend who treated her like crap. At least not one without a title. But other than those small differences, these two are essentially the same person. (No disrespect to either.) I mean, their names even start with the same letter. Coincidence? Doubtful. Sure, Dorinda is a little less refined than the princess, but that’s what makes her so darn fun. And slightly unbalanced.

But, remember, no disrespect.

And for our finale, we move from princesses to kings. Of the jungle.

New Jersey’s Dina Manzo as the King of the Jungle

I think this one is pretty self-explanatory

Her personality may be more reminiscent of a hyena, with her constant screeching and (verbally) attacking the weaker Housewives, but her maxillofacial area definitely reads lion. Besides, if this post were about personality doppelgängers the comparisons would be entirely different. And less interesting. Who cares about personalities anyway? It’s what’s on the outside that matters. (I learned that from watching reality TV.)

And thus ends our smorgasbord of similarities. Are you all feeling all warm and fuzzy – and unified – now? Good, now go pay it forward.

Will the Real Waste of Space Please Stand Up?

Oh, Kanye.

Kanye, Kanye, Kanye.

I thought that we had seen all that your arrogance and self-righteousness had to offer. I thought that now that you were a married father, your egomaniacal ways might lessen. I even thought that I may have been unfair to judge you so harshly in the past.

I thought wrong.

Way, way wrong.

SO wrong.

Proving yet again that he is, without a doubt, one of the sorriest excuses for a human being to ever breathe air, Kanye West, at a recent concert, refused to continue performing – that is, do his job – until the entire arena was on its feet. That part isn’t so bad, I guess. Performers request crowds to rise all the time. They don’t demand it, mind you; they don’t refuse to proceed with the performance until it happens; but they request it.

Granted, the way Kanye handled it was much more egocentric and narcissistic – as is his way – but if these concert-goers are stupid enough to pay money to attend one of Klassless Kanye’s concerts, I suppose they get what they get.

What I can’t imagine anyone anticipating, however, is what happened next. So, Kanye demands that everyone stand up and, because the world revolves around him, he refuses to continue the show until he sees EVERY SINGLE PERSON standing. So when he notices one person with the audacity to remain seated after being commanded by the great one to rise, he takes aim. He zeroes in and will not let up. In fact, it gets so bad that the arena erupts into a chorus of “Stand up! Stand up!” punctuated by boos. And, yet, this concert-goer continues to be the epitome of disrespect by absolutely refusing to stand.

The audacity. The insolence. The blatant disrespect. What possible reason could someone have for NOT standing when commanded by his majassty, the King of Krap, and an angry mob of Kanye-loving Aussies?

There isn’t one good reason.

Not one.

Okay, well, maybe there’s one good reason. The concert-goer in question? Yeah, he was in a wheelchair.

It’s not that he wouldn’t stand up; it was that he couldn’t stand up.

But even the testimony of those around the wheelchair-bound fella was insufficient evidence to absolve him of his heinous, treasonous crime. In fact, it wasn’t, reportedly, until Kanye’s own bodyguards checked the situation out themselves and confirmed that yes, barring a miracle, this kid wasn’t going to be on his feet anytime soon, that the anointed one finally carried on with the concert.   

What I found most surprising after watching the video, wasn’t that Kanye made a huge ass out of himself; no, that was to be expected. In fact, if Kanye’s talking, he’s probably saying something really stupid. What I found most surprising was how many people were actually at the concert. It looked like a fairly full house. Do you think they actually paid money to be there? Perhaps Australia is not yet hip to the fact that Sir Sucksalot is a giant joke.

As an addendum to this story, immediately after demanding the wheelchair-bound man to rise, Kanye attempted to walk on water.

He drowned.

Mustique’s Mystique

If you read ATG with any regularity (and if you don’t, why not?!) you know how much we hate to say anything negative about the world’s most beloved (and overrated) woman, Waity Katie.

Okay, so maybe we don’t hate it that much.

But honestly, it’s her own fault. She makes it nearly impossible to find anything nice to say. She’s lazy and entitled, and makes Octomom look hard-working. (And anyone who inspires me to say nice things about Octomom clearly sucks at life.)

Recently, though, I’d been spared from any uncharitable Waity thoughts, as it seemed there'd been a lull in the Kate mania—or Katenia, as I like to call it. I have to admit, I was very much appreciating the quiet (and my more pleasant disposition). Then I discovered the reason behind the press blackout and all my pleasantness came to a complete and abrupt halt, much like Lindsay Lohan’s career.

The Workless Wonder is gone.

Out of the country.

In Mustique.

On vacation. VACATION!

Vacation from what, exactly? Shopping? Hair appointments? Exercising? Not eating? Sleeping late? Her insanely pampered life?

Probably none of the above, as I’m sure she’s partaking in all these same activities in Mustique.

Poor dear, having to take her work with her on holiday.

Well, of course she needs a vacation. Carrying your own umbrella is very hard work.

(As an aside, I must extend my condolences to the rest of the island’s guests. Remember what happened last time the Worthless Twosome and the Meddling Middletons traveled to Mustique? They commandeered the entire island.)

And isn’t it funny how this doesn’t make the front page? Her new haircut: front page. Her latest wardrobe choice: front page. The fact that she can’t be bothered to do even one day’s work: nothing. Ah, how I love that unbiased, completely objective, media. News flash, press people, she’s not Diana. She may have the ring and the height and the wistful, blank stare, but she’s not Diana. And no matter how much you try to make her Diana, it won’t work because, to recap, she’s NOT DIANA.

There are plenty of criticisms you can make of the late princess, but work-shy is not one of them. Her daughter-in-law on the other hand hasn’t “worked” since, what, this summer when she was an Olympic “ambassador”? And to be clear, she only showed up for the Summer Olympics, not for the Paralympics, which were also held in London. So, although Dolittle required prime seats at many Olympic events, the Paralympics apparently weren’t glamorous enough to deserve much of the Great One’s precious time.

No, it seems that she had a much more pressing engagement: vacay. In France. Remember those French vacation photos? Where we got an up close and personal view of the Duchess’s true cup size? Bet she wishes now that she’d stayed in London and watched a Para event or two.  

Here they are again...hard at work.

But getting back to my original point, what is this a vacation from? In case you’re wondering  how many charity appearances -- or what the royals call “work” -- she’s made this year, let me fill you in: Zero. Zilch. Nada.

Not one.

But can you blame her? After all, gestating a baby is really, really hard work. And, not only is Kate a very delicate flower, but she’s also apparently the only woman who’s ever been pregnant.

Obviously it’s very important that she relax while she can, as she’ll soon be really, really busy—ordering around the plethora of nannies, wet nurses, and child wranglers sure to be permanent installations at the castle. Why, anyone can see what a tough road lies ahead for the poor dear.

Poor, poor Kate.

We should all go light a candle for her.

2013: Year the Celebrity Baby is Officially Over

We here at ATG are officially calling it. Celebrity babies are sooooooooo last year.  Why? Literally everyone who is anyone has an accessor-baby.  Evidence: Kim Kardashian (or Kimpee as I like to call her).

I wonder how Kimpee will broach the topic of ratings-based marriage and urination-based sex tapes with her little bundle of joy?

 And what is her first post-expecting news outfit of choice? A spiderweb so skimpy the spider would starve to death. Real klassy, Kimpee.

This woman is going to be influencing the decisions of a little one.

Oh, and good news! We can look forward to even more sluternity wear in the future because Kimpee isn't experiencing any morning sickness. Perhaps she can trade tips with the Vomity Duchess???  And the Vomity Duchess can give Kimpee tips on how to let her family design a line of baby products based on the famous father of their future grandchild.  I see a new set of trans-Atlantic besties!

I think it's high time to admit that the Kimye's offspring, sometimes referred to as the Kash Kow, is just a down-market version of Jayonce's adorable bundle of joy, Blue Ivy.  The Kash Kow is the Designer Imposter version of rapper baby.   I feel sorry for Beyonce.  She's going to have to endure years of play dates between BI and KK.  Don't worry B.  We're all sighing with you.

A Judgment-Scented Potpourri

Here we go again with the bullying claims. But this time the big bully isn’t a phone prank, it’s—are you ready for this?—Christmas carols. No, seriously. Christmas carols.

A group of parents in Montana recently wrote a letter to the Missoula County Public Schools superintendent saying that a Christmas program featuring traditional Christmas songs, songs that reference Jesus, is offensive, unconstitutional and perpetuates bullying.

Their argument is that, in an area that’s—according to the letter—home to a fair number of non-Christians, school performances should be entirely secular, with no reference to Jesus or his people; and, should the district dare to disagree with them, the parents have threatened legal action.

Nice to see they haven’t lost their Christmas spirit.

I’m sure we all have our own opinions about whether Christmas carols in a public school are unconstitutional or offensive, but what I can’t imagine we’d disagree on is the bullying claim. This is simply NOT bullying and to label it as such, again, lessens the power of true bullying claims.

Fortunately, the parents don’t want Christmas canceled entirely, so fingers crossed that Santa brings them a dictionary. Or a clue.

Ironically, these same parents have no problem with the children singing songs like Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, a song that has also come under fire for promoting bullying. Why, you ask? Well, isn’t it obvious? Because the other reindeer laughed at Rudolph and called him names, of course.

Obviously some people just want to be offended.

__________________________________

Sure, she had to cancel the very few charitable appearances—or “work,” as she calls it—she’d had scheduled over the last few weeks because she was so, so, so sick with morning sickness (a morning sickness that was apparently contagious because her husband also missed an engagement or two), but, fear not, because it appears that Lazy Katie has made a miraculous recovery. And just in time to go party it up with the in-laws at Buckingham Palace.

Glad to see she has her priorities in order.

Actually, it’s probably a good thing that she was able to fit the royals in before Christmas, as it’s now being reported that she and her husband will not be attending the traditional royal celebration at Sandringham. Why, you ask? Well, because it’s very important that poor, mistreated Waity spend this last Christmas with her family, as next year, having finally spawned an heir, she’ll be required to spend Christmas with the royal family. Understandable, I suppose, except that every Christmas, vacation, birthday, wedding, etc. is the “last.” And yet, she and her family still spend more time together than the Mansons.

So why is Lazy allowed to choose her family over the in-laws, something that no other royal consort has ever been able to do? The answer is: I have no idea. Apparently Prince William Middleton has absolutely no backbone—or interest in being a royal. There are painfully few things asked of the young royals, but Christmas at Sandringham is one of them—especially for senior royals. For some reason, though, this lazy broad and her husband can’t even be bothered to do that.

The Worthless Twosome

When the king-in-waiting shows absolutely no interest in taking on royal duties, spending time with his family, or acting royal in any way (except for benefiting from the perks), then what hope does the monarchy have?

Before Kate conned William into marrying her, it was widely reported that after the wedding her life would change quite drastically, that visits with her family would be much fewer and further between because she’d simply be too busy being a princess. Uh, count that as one more thing that the media got wrong. Her life has changed not one bit in any way that matters. She’s still as lazy as ever, only now she has grander homes and larger jewels.

Could someone please remind me why she’s considered such a great role model?

__________________________________

Lazy Katie may be the Most Beautiful (and worthless) Woman in the world, but for an Iowa dentist (and his wife), his dental assistant came in a close second. And, because of that, she had to be fired.

Melissa Nelson, who had worked for the dentist for 10 years, was fired in 2010 for being too “irresistible” to her boss, Dr. James Knight. And last Friday, the Iowa Supreme Court ruled that it was a lawful termination.

The irresistible assistant

In light of this ruling, a lot has been made of Iowa’s all-male Supreme Court, as if their decision was completely sexist. I take issue with this implication. I agree that this was a stupid and totally unfair termination, but was it unlawful? Apparently not. And if the law’s not there, what was the Court supposed to do? Rewrite the law? It probably wouldn’t be the first time that a Supreme Court has rewritten a law to make something legal, but they’re not really supposed to do that. Their job is to interpret, not create.

That said, this is not a dentist that I would like to patron. A man who has to fire his assistant because he doesn’t think he can control himself around her, is not a man that I want around me while I’m under the influence of sleep-inducing drugs.

Just saying...

Ass-centuate the Positive

Apparently Kim Kardashian has never heard this expression. Or perhaps she just thinks it’s equally as important to accentuate the not-so-positive, evidenced by some of her latest wardrobe choices. Listen, I’m fully aware that it’s not Kim Kardashian’s fault that she has a GIANT behind (unless you believe the rumor that she got a butt implant, which I don’t) and I know that we here at ATG are not always the most complimentary of Her Royal Buttness, but seriously, she brings a lot of it on herself. She makes SO MANY bad choices, choices that result in it being virtually impossible not to make her the butt of our jokes. (See what I did there?)

For instance, she wears these (totally unflattering) leather pants about as frequently as Jennifer Aniston makes unwatchable movies (read: ALL THE TIME). I tried to give her a pass—I too have a favorite pair of pants that I practically live in—then I saw this picture:

I’m sure it super sucks to be so “famous” that you have people standing behind you on an escalator taking pictures of your hindquarters. However, this is what she wanted; she wanted to be famous. She courts attention like Taylor Swift courts bad relationships, so I don’t feel too badly for her.

Perhaps she should ask Santa to bring her a rearview mirror for Christmas. That way she’ll always know what she looks like from behind, as well as from the front—although, let’s be honest, do we really think there’s a lack of mirrors in any Kardashian household? To quote Kevin McCallister, “I don’t think so.” And considering that she recently left the house looking like this (see below), apparently she has trouble with the front view as well (but trust me when I say that the back view is even worse on this one). So probably mirrors, or lack thereof, are not really the problem.

And since I’m on a roll, why stop the judgment parade now? Careful, it’s about to get snarkilicious up in here.

Kim Kardashian is CONSTANTLY talking about how she works out all the time; she’s seen in pictures walking into and out of gyms; she tweets about going to the gym; and on and on. My question is, what does she do once she’s actually IN the gym? Listen, I will never hate on someone who works out a lot and doesn’t have a perfect body because I myself could fall into this category, but this girl has NO—as in zero, not an ounce—of muscle. I defy you to find any. She obviously goes to the gym—puts on the shoes and the see-through spandex pants—but what does she do once she’s there? Eat cake? A bucket of chicken? Because it sure doesn’t look like she’s running on the treadmill or lifting weights. Perhaps she considers lifting fork to mouth exercise. And perhaps if she didn’t wear sheer skirts (sans Underoos) and nasty leather pants, thereby accentuating her not-so-positives, I wouldn’t feel the need to point them out either.

Let’s be clear, I do feel a bit sorry for her. I’m exceedingly glad that there’s not someone standing behind me taking pictures of all my worst angles and bloggers writing about them. But, then, I didn’t make a sex tape in a desperate attempt to be famous.

And that’s the difference.