March 2015

‘Twas the morning of Thursday, March the Twelfth,

I decided I needed to work on my health.

I pulled into the gym at the ass-crack of dawn,

After cursing my alarm as the Devil’s own spawn.

Most others were nestled all snug in their beds,

But I had a workout stuck in my head.

I snacked on an apple and prayed not to die,

Turning the corner, trying not to cry.

A mile from my house, I saw a great sight,

It just appeared in the beam of my lights.

I couldn’t believe it, could it really be?

My new best friend was again, so near me?

The moon hit the bumper (stickers) ever so right,

I was suddenly not mad it’s the middle of the night.

When, what to my wondering eyes should appear…

Something I enjoy almost as much as cold beer!

I have yet to meet the driver, I bet he is SICK,

We’ll become best friends, his ride is too slick.

I assume it’s a he, because as we all know,

No female could drive this obvious shitshow.

We all grew up thinking that Barbie had the dream car,

But Bev is here to show you, that ‘Vette was just sub-par.

This rusted-out Civic is where it’s at,

Ken pimps this ride as the head of the frat.

I can always use more gym motivation,

Now I can use my new Ken-doll sensation.

He parks near the gym on Thursday mornings,

Soon I’ll be sitting shotgun, without warning.

My Ken and I will ride off into the sunset,

I’ll meet this hoopty’s owner, on that you can bet.

You’re all invited to our lavish wedding,

And in our Civic, we’ll be forever jet-setting.

-Bev

Sometimes, this thing is parked in front of my house. Always, it’s the highlight of my day week month.

I don’t have a bucket list, but I’m creating one.

Bev’s Bucket List

#1. Ride in this car

Is it Friday yet, friends?

-Bev

PS- this son of a bitch has Iowa license plates. YOU BET.

Earlier this morning, I thought my post today would be about the tragedy of how I lost one of my gold hoop earrings at work today. It’s most likely in the parking lot somewhere, gone forever. I decided not to post much about this because a) I literally have a matching one from the last time I lost a gold hoop earring, and decided to just start stockpiling the same style/brand, so that when a situation such as this arises, I don’t have to pay for therapy. But really, I didn’t post about that because b) my life was flip-turned upside-down today…

What? WHAT? I mean, she’s done this to me before with that stupid honey-blonde look, and that one horrible time when she wore a blonde wig, and I had to breathe into a paper bag for a few hours. But this? This is (in the words of Walter Sobchak) OVER THE LINE.

Kimberly Noel Kardashian Thomas Humphries West should-be-Bush, you stop this nonsense right now, take your happy ass back to the salon and FIX THIS. If this situation isn’t rectified sometime in the next seven days, you’re losing one (very important) Twitter follower¹. 

Look, I get it. I know you’re surrounded by people who tell you what you want to hear. (You and your wardrobe proved this for the entire 9 months that you were pregnant, when you actually married Kanye, and ya really set that shit in stone when you named your kid North West.) It’s time to get rid of those ass-kissers around you (we’re looking at you, Jonathan Cheban), and get some real friends. I know some people who would be happy to join your squad, and who would’ve rather you set your hair on fire than… this. Those people? Me. Reggie. Let’s do this. It’s not too late! Reggie can adopt North, and you can change her name to Rose if you want! (Let THAT sink in, people.) 

You need the type of friends that will tell you like it is. So, Bev is here for you with a very important message:

Black is your thing, Kim. It’s what you do.

All sorts of puns intended.

Love and Brunette Solidarity,

Bev

¹No, you’re not. But I’m distressed.

There are a lot of hot topics out on social media right now, and I feel like it’s time for Bev to weigh in. I’ll start with my least favorite ‘trending topic’ and end on a high note. Ya know, like March- in like a lion, out like a lamb… or… something… like that.

3) That godforsaken dress. This started last Thursday (also known as Bev’s snow day), and I tell you what- a drunk person trying to decipher this dress debacle is almost as ridiculous as the whole thing is in the first place. Bev’s final take: There are 2 dresses, 2 pictures, and everyone needs to sit down and shut up about it.

2) Apparently it’s possible to be buried in some kind of pod that will eventually turn my dead body into a tree? No. Just, NO. Of course, as most of you know, Bev wishes plans to be buried above ground in a New Orleans cemetery so this is kind of a moot point. Bev’s final take: No. And NOLA or bust. (LOTS more to come on this later)

1) The llamas. THE LLAMAS. Oh my God, I can’t even tell you how much I love those things. (See earlier Bev post on animals) Again, this was hitting the internet on Bev’s brunch day, and I’m pretty sure I almost fell off my barstool laughing at those 2 rascals shutting down the interstate in Arizona. Like, what? I thought my favorite part of this whole situation was Pierre, the white llama interviewed on CNN. (just take a second reread that sentence- ‘the white llama interviewed on CNN’)

After further research, though, it sounds like this white llama (Pierre) is not the white llama. Dammit. Bev’s final take: Llamas for President(s).

-Bev

Does anyone else feel like I need to get on www.thesaurus.com so that I can start using other words for brunch?

Anyhoo, as y’all know, Bev hearts brunch more than almost anything, and I had a super-fun, super-fancy brunch today for a sendoff to my dear cousin/friend, Bernice, who’s moving to New Zealand.

While I could write about how a) I almost vomited in my Uber on the way there, due to the wretched stench of the car and/or driver, or how b) the brunch was amazefest.com, or c) how apparently it’s ‘not bottomless’ and the waiter told us the manager was ‘watching us’ and, subsequently, the waiter was kind of cutting us off of champagne (WHAT?), but I’m going to tell you about d) a celebrity sighting. Al Franken. I had brunch with Al Franken. (translation: I saw Al Franken at brunch)

This does not excite me at all. I do not care about Al Franken. However, my hope is that more brunches turn into celebrity sightings, and I can work through the ranks of Midwestern senators, to maybe some athletes, then to A-list celebs, and eventually, the ultimate, platinum, heart-stopping celebrity moment… KIMMY K.

BRUNCH ON, FRIENDS.

-Bev