In which I contemplate the career of one Ms. Julia Stiles...

since I've ranted on how much I hate Julia Stiles. Since I caught a few moments of the piece of dogshit they call a movie "The Prince & Me" this weekend, I thought it might be appropriate to revisit to the topic of how much she sucks and why she has a career.

I don't know anyone who likes her or her acting. Did she sleep her way to the top? I don't think so because she is pretty fugs. Or maybe she, er, um, does things most women won't do (anal). That has to be it.

Or maybe she is like Harriet the Spy and has tons of dirt on Hollywood execs and blackmailed them into a career. That would make sense too.

Since she kind of looks 45, maybe she posed as a therapist to Hollywood honchos for a few years and then said she would expose them if they didn't cast her as a teenager who looks 40.

Or maybe she won a contest where the prize was a lifetime of starring roles.

Or maybe she found a magic lamp with a genie voiced by Robin Williams inside.

Or maybe she is good at science and made a magic potion to get people to think she is a good actress.

Or maybe...


I mean the posibilities are endless because it's impossible to explain how saomeone who sucks so hard can be famous.

A Friendly PSA: DO NOT SEE THIS MOVIE

In the early 1990s, my sister and I used to snuggle and watch USA's night time program "Up All Night." They had a big boobied host who would show crappy B-movies. One night, at around 11 pm, we tuned in to see they were airing "My Bloody Valentine" a 1981 horror film about mass murders in a mining town.

We did not live anywhere near miners, coal and/or killers, but I assure you, that movie scared the Jebus out of us. To this day, we cannot year the song "My Funny Valentine" without getting scared. The sight of a pick axe gives me goose bumps. For years, we have made jokes of this movie and how scary it is just to cover up the fact that sometimes at night we still remember how effing scared we were.

FOR SHAME LIONSGATE! How could you do this to us! Make a re-make of the movie that has forever made me a scaredy cat. And who do you cast? JACK FROM DAWSON'S CREEK! WTF? Are you trying to hurt my feelings?

And how do you shoot the movie? IN 3 EFFING D!!!! No, it wasn;t scary enough the first time. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO, you had to go and make it way scarier. Lionsgate, you are just mean and cruel and I hate you.

So please, I urge you all. Do not attempt this cinematic adventure. You will only regret it FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE!

Denise Fleming is a Tampon (and other things that have made women crazy).

Okay, I've just about had it with men calling women crazy. I will be the first to admit. Yes. We bitches be crazy. But the reason why? Dudes. Men. Guys. Boys. Anything with a peen.

Would Carrie have flipped off the deep end if that guy hadn't faked being her date at the prom? No.

Would Denise Fleming have become a freaky loner if it weren't for Kenny Fisher bad-mouthing her?

Would Whitney have become a crack whre without Bobby? (Kiss My Ass!)

Would Britney have gone bonkers if it weren't for the loss of K-Fed (okay, sort of debatable since she's kind of clinical).

You get the idea.

I am going to use myself as a prime example. I am normal. Seriously, as normal as they come. I'm kind of known for it. Sure, I stress and have insecurities an whatever but I think pretty rationally and have been known for my normalcy. I'm actually pretty fun to be around most of the time (especially when there is booze-yay!).

Then something happens. Add a guy into the mix, nay, and asshole guy into the mix. All of a sudden my clothes start ripping and a giant green monster named Lou Ferigno takes over and I become The Incredible Bitch.

The Incredible Bitch's triggers include but are not limited to:
1. Insult
2. Neglect
3. Lack of orgasms
4. Blatant disregard for feelings/apathy
5. Mind fucking


Her talents include:
1. Introducing herself to every skeleton in your closet
2. Anger fucking
3. Facebook stalking

Also a factor: birth control. Mix that with a douchebag being douchey and The Incredible Bitch will CUT YOU!

Luckily, I have been able to supress this inner entity for quite some time (with some minor facebook stalking offenses) since, sadly I have been without any jerk stores in my life (yay!).
The monster is lying dormant right now, and with the spring coming, my search for a new crush in full force, and assholes aplenty in Manhattan, I fear for this fair city.

So boys, let this be a warning. You are the reason we get the crazies from time to time. Stop. Being. Such. Dicks.

As I hate hell all Julias

As I've made it clear in the past, I hate Julia Stiles. Like really hate. Hate which exponentially grew as I watched Mona Lisa Smile this weekend (on the contrary, my love for Ginnfer Goodwin has grown to the ful fledged girl-crush).

But my hate for Miss Stiles (PLEASE DON'T GET MARRIED AND BREED!) isn't the extent of my hate for all things Julia. Watching Stiles and another Julia, Julia Roberts, made me want to puke in my mouth. Really ladies, phoning it in much?

I had something written here about another Julia I have never met. It was mean and unnecessarily harsh. I've deleted it because I don't know her and since she doesn't know me I felt that it was in bad form to keep it up here. Not that she would ever read this since she probably has a life.

But Julia Stiles, that bitch will go down if it's the last thing I do.

Balls...or lack thereof

Today I checked my email to see I had two comments waiting for moderation. I thought to myself, "Self, you have a reader! Kudos to you! Someone likes to read your work!" Then I read what they said. Apparently an anonymous commenter has beef with dear ol' Jonesy. And since I don't take things lying down and this person obviously wants some attention, I will oblige and share your thoughts about me with the rest of the world.

Take this for example:

"Noone(sic) cares about you. Your(sic) a miserable brides maid(sic). Thats(sic) all you'll ever be. noone(sic) will ever love you "

"Wow," you may be thinking. That's way harsh. But five errors in three sentences? Who taught this person to write/read? Sloth from the Goonies? And I happen to be a pretty good bridesmaid. Ask my sisters or BFF or Spanish or Mrs. Krabbypatty. No misery there. Severe intoxication? Possibly. But not misery. And there are plenty of people who love me. So dear commenter, no need to worry your non-existent sac of cowardice.

Or what about this gem from a post about my dissapointment in the 2007 Mets season?

"and just like the men in your life, the mets woke up the following morring and said to them selfs,"wow, how did I fuck up that bad?"

Them selfs? Yowsa. I am dealing with a 5 year old with the mouth of a truck driver who's been in the road too long. And unless we've had all the sex, you have no reason to be criticizing. And if we have, you definitely wouldn't be saying that. Unless you're the guy that I brought home on St. Patrick's Day. The whole thumb tack thing...that was weird.

Also, these were posted at around 1 am on late Friday/early Saturday. Who is reading blogs then? Blogs are for reading at work when you're bored, not after you just completed a five hour internet porn binge. What, Bang Bus not hard core enough? Had to get your non-existent rocks off by picking on me?

Since this is such a personal attack I can only assume this is someone I know. And since I pretty much know who reads this, I have an idea of who it is. And I could care less. Just sad you can't say this to my face. The fact that you "don't care" is obviously not a fact. It's a lie. Because someone who didn't care wouldn't say such hurtful things. I have no idea why you're (see you put an apostrophe when it's two words...never mind, you're too dumb to understand) angry or what I did, but I can assure you that you have just proved every notion I ever had about you. There is much more I can say to you that would hurt far worse, but I'm better than you and you know that. You are a shell of a human being and I feel sorry for you.

If my intuition is failing me and this is a random stranger, I pity you. The fact that you put people down and hide behind anonymity is sad and small. Put down the keyboard and find some friends, maybe meet a girl. Maybe she'll touch your penis. I promise, it will help.

So that is my rebuttal to you, anonymous commenter. Take it as a Whitney Houston-esque, "KISS MY ASS!" Or better yet, in the wise words of one Janice Ian, "SUCK ON THAT! AYAYAYAYAYAYYYYYYYYYY!"

ANGER ALERT!

I HATE YOU JULIA STILES! YOU ARE PLAIN LOOKING AND A TERRIBLE ACTRESS! IT'S LIKE YOU WOKE UP ONE DAY AND SAID, "I THINK I'LL BE IN MOVIES." ARGH! YOU ARE THE WORST EVER. YOU ARE THE WORST, REALLY, THE WORST.