Last week Kim Kardashian was on an episode of the NPR game show podcast “Wait, Wait… Don’t Tell Me” which is a dumb podcast that is not as good as the less appreciated NPR game show podcast “Ask Me Another.” Kim was an utter delight, but NPR listeners freaked out that she and her voice were not worthy of being inside their elitist ear holes. And to them, and every other person who still makes fun of Kim, I say “YERRR BASICKKKKK.”
Still calling someone basic might be considered basic, but I think basic is a word we need in the English language. It’s timeless, and I think if you want me to eradicate this word from my repertoire, you might as well ask me to give up words like “love,” “God,” and “America.”
So, yah basic, Kiki haters. I was once one of you for sure. I never watched anything in the Kardashian kanon until the Caitlyn stuff happened and I still have no idea if Dash is a real store. I judged Kim sight unseen because of the sex tape thing and just her whole lifestyle in general, but I have seen the light and I think Kim is great. I think she’s smart, I think she’s in on it, I think she’s really sweet, and I don’t think she’s any worse than any other celebrity out there who is making money off selling their baby’s first photo spread to People Magazine. If you’re still stumbling around telling everyone that the Kardashians are what’s wrong with this country, then go find a middle aged white male meet up group so you can discuss in peace that and how kids these days won’t stop tweeting about what they had for lunch today.
And stop kalling Khloe “the ugly one!” She’s not the ugly one, and even if she was you’re rude and basic and probably the ugly one in most social circles. BYYYYE.
Though I’ve never been a fan of Kim’s, I suddenly have an overwhelming sense of compassion for her armpits and the armpits of women in every grocery store in America who are being subjected to this magazine cover. I realize that Kim is probably gaining this weight so she can get some sort of Jenny Craig deal after that set piece of a breathing infant pushes its way through her Kanye Kanal. If she develops preeclampsia it won’t even matter because I’m sure the line between real life and Ryan Seacrest’s SimCity has completely disintegrated at this point.
For this exercise, let’s just assume at this point that Kim has no human emotions left. So, even if a close up of her armpit on a national magazine couldn’t crack through her exterior (which I’m assuming is just one big coating of gel nail polish and melted polyester) and hurt her feelings, it’s still hurting my feelings! I’m a size 2/4. I am not Rosemary’s Babying Ryan Seacrest’s devil child. And, yet, I think I have “fat armpits” or essentially, “vagina arms.” You’d never know because I’ve become skilled at flexing whenever my self esteem smells a camera within 15 feet of me, but if you caught me walking down the street in a tank top… there they’d be. Now, thanks to InTouch, I am reminded that fat armpits are a legit concern and I WILL NEVER BE SEXY AGAIN.
Women in hair salon waiting rooms don’t need to be reminded that there is another part of their body they can hate. You know that stupid Dove commercial where they bring in that “police sketch artist” or “actor” and then they try to pass off your low self esteem as your own fault?
It’s not your fault (here’s a great counter to that Dove commercial). Because you wouldn’t know to be self conscious of your arm pits if magazines didn’t show you a picture of a beautiful, pregnant celebrity, circle her fat like a sorority sister during Hell Week, and say “EWWWW SHE’S GROSS! YOU’RE PROBS GROSS, TOO! PLEASE CHECK OUT OUR CELLULITE CREAM AD ON PAGE 78!”
John Mayer. (Hasn’t Jennifer Aniston been through enough?!)
People referring to their boyfriends as “the boy.”
Tim Burton and Johnny Depp.
Reality stars wearing bandage dresses. We can’t all look good in bandage dresses!
Skinny Perez Hilton. He somehow set a new benchmark on how upset I am by newly thinned out celebrities. The scale is now from a Skinny Seth Rogen to a Skinny Perez Hilton, with Skinny Al Roker somewhere in the middle. I’m offended by how angular his jaw is.
‘Spirit Animal’ jokes. (But if we’re keeping track, Sally Draper is my spirit animal [but not Kiernan Shipka, who I think is a leetle too proud of herself]).
Stop encouraging her, Jon Hamm.
Anchorman 2. Just when everyone gave me some peace and stopped quoting Anchorman 1, Anchorman 2 is coming out. Young white men, you have already ruined this movie for me.
This vision of class was on Late Night with Jimmy Fallon last night: