Once again a Sunday afternoon rolls around and finds me enjoying the company of my family whilst nursing my hangover with the aid of fattening food and TV. As the afternoon progresses, the dynamic of our line up changes. Laura dresses and prepares to venture up to school...and her recently ex- boyfriend Matt takes her place in our group. Sundays have long been the guitar playing day and despite recent events, today was to be no different. Tom and Matt make themselves comfortable on the couch, following each others lead with guitar riffs and original songs. I sit across from them and enjoy the music while half paying attention to the Johnny Depp version of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory that has been broadcast on repeat for the last 36 hours...



I am in the group of people that will readily admit were terrified of the original Willy Wanka movie and thus attempted to avoid it at all costs. It wasn't until I got alittle older that I was able to view Gene Wilder's portrayal of Wanka as nothing short of genius. This of course does not mean that I am as of yet able to watch the entire movie...this simply means that I can appreciate a fantastic performance when I see one. That being said, I did not have alot of interest in watching the remake. Anyway...cut back to the present. Through the dueling guitars, I was able to watch the beginning of this remade movie...more specifically the scenes showing the 2 sets of grandparents resting in one bed, which happens to be conveniently positioned directly in the center of the Bucket's kitchen. Which brings me to the point of this blog....



Why the hell do the poor Bucket's allow both sets of grandparents live in one bed in the middle of their house? Targeting my anger more specifically, I hate grandpa Joe. This man is clearly healthy enough to accompany Charlie on his chocolate adventure. In the remake, this faker even shows enough stamina to jump out of bed and do a dance when Charlie returns home with the long sought after golden ticket. Any man capable of dancing is also capable of holding at least a part time job...contributing a little financial assistance to the struggling Bucket family. Or, at the very least, Grandpa Joe can help carry the community bed to an out of the way room or corner. Or even help Charlie's father build a second bed, thus eliminating the need for all the grandparents to share one queen sized bed. I imagine in a modern day telling of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, Grandpa Joe would be eligible for disability and even an access card. The family would be on welfare and all of the grandparents would be living in assisted living communities. With this level of government involvement, some health care organization would be able to see that Grandpa Joe's only disability was laziness and therefore make him ineligible for the financial aid granted to the rest of his family. With any luck, Joe would find himself being hauled away to some workhouse....forced to live his remaining years participating in the manual labor he avoided during his vacation sleeping in his son's kitchen. Meanwhile, the rest of the Bucket family would spend the rest of their lives contently furnishing their government housing and standing in front of me in line at the Pathmark, buying ample Gatorade and Doritos with 4 different access cards.

bridezilla almost caused me to have a stroke

I sit here in Washington DC after spenting a fantastic day enjoying the sights and sampling the delicious foods from the Eastern Market. (We also ran into Al Frankin...the SNL alum Senator from Minnesota...only noteworthy because of my preoccupation with obtaining the hot apple cider inconveniently positioned directly behind him. No pseudo- celebrity or Senator is important enough to deserve my respect whilst blocking me from hot apple cider...hence he almost took an elbow to the chest) After purchasing fresh produce, we headed back to Kate's apartment for relaxation....and drinking. Within a short amount of time, I had depleted Tom of his emergency supply of Natty Light cans occupying the often forgotten posterior wall of the fridge. Understanding my level of intoxication, Kate wisely decided to begin cooking dinner in an attempt to dilute the alcohol streaming through my veins.

As is the case with any given Sunday at my house, we decided to put on a movie while enjoying the fruits of Kate's labor. Unable to agree on a movie, we settled on watching an episode of our much beloved Bridezilla. Bridezilla is a TV show that follows a soon to be bride during her planning process...all the while catching her acting in manner that would offend Joseph Stalin. This particular episode centered around a New York bride who behaved in such an entitled and superior way, that I literly sat on the couch with my jaw open and unable to formulate words. This bride spent most of her wedding planning mocking "poor people" and bragging about her father's endless wallet. Perhaps because I was mildly drunk off ghetto beer, I found myself shaking with rage and longing to rip her tongue out of her head...thus giving me a murdering instrument. ( To reader who do not understand me...I would use her own tongue to strangle the shallow life out of her body...no big deal)

Despite my mind being clouded with beer, I quickly recognized my physical inability to appropriately deliver to her the only thing she truely deserved....pain and suffering. However, the desire to smack her was too strong, so I decided to research the Bridezilla's website....hoping to discover a means of contacting this waste of life. Thankfully I was able to find a platform to broadcast my hate. The comment printed below is the actual rant that I authored and posted. Remember that this was written while I was wasted and running off of pure hate. I am very proud of it and can only hope that this Bridezilla reads it..although I have serious doubts as to her literacy level....

So, this stupid slut Karen ran her mouth saying that she hated poor people and she was better than everyone else. You stupid spoiled whore, you never worked a day in your life, you live off your father. Your are what is wrong with our country, I am a 25 year old who graduated from college with no debt, bought my own house and support half of my family and actually value more than material goods. You are a waste of life and I literally hope sickness and misfortune on you. You feel as though you are entitled to mock people who actually work for a living, make less then your father and cannot afford to spend as much as you on your cheesy, flashy, shallow, 1980's wedding. i watched your episodes of Bridezilla with a look of shock and disgust on my face, having to be told by my sister to calm down. Yes, I watched your episodes, thus giving you what you want...I have watched numerous episodes of this show for pure amusement. However, you are the worst...not the worst Bridezilla...but the worst human being on the face of the earth..Adolf Hitler had more positive characteristics. I CANNOT wait for you to get fat so that your husband leaves you and you are alone. I was raised with ambition and goals, understanding that I am worth more than one solitary wedding day. I will never be defined by who I marry and how lavish my wedding day is....EVERYONE gets married. It doesn't make you special. Nice mark you left on the world, you no frills anonymous whore. YOU are nothing and the world will be better when you die.