Yet if I was to punch you, I would go to jail

This is literally the worst thing I have ever seen in my life.

Apparently this “Stephanie Klein” is some sort of internet celebrity. Maybe I’m being a dick or a hater or whatever, but fuck it. This shit is terrible. This is why I’ve never watched more than three seconds of “Sex & The City”. I can’t stand this self-referential “I’m such a bad girl” sorority bullshit.

You know what’s even worse than the junior high confessional flowers & tampons-style content of these posts? The comments from those pouring slavish adoration on this idiot.

I feel bad for even linking this. If you get a seizure from reading it, does that make me liable for any damages? I better call my lawyer. Am I bitter? Yes, but not because I’m jealous, this is just pure hatred. I’m thinking about deleting my blog just to distance myself from the chance I could ever become this self-absorbed and horrible.

Just kidding, I love everyone!



  1. I was enjoying a mocha frappie at the office on an overcast Thursday morning when I found your blog. I sensed… loneliness, depair… hidden under a dry wit that only someone from the cemented hollowness of LA could possess.

    I went to LA twice in 2001. I flitted from one shop to another, exhausting all of my energy on locating the perfect pair of strappy heels. But I realized that the more I walked, the more I needed new shoes because the ones I had on would wear out faster. So I spent the rest of the warm afternoon sitting on a park bench reflecting on how life tries to accelerate the process of using and replacing, when maybe all we really need is to appreciate the shoes we’re wearing right now.

  2. cruel concrete, crueler fate (a parody):

    This evening’s events began well, innocently and hopefully. I had a date with an immensely handsome and exceptionally witty boy who also happened to be a musician. I wanted to impress him with my new special dress, and I had applied fake tan, and my hair was all preened, superlatively so. I did sit at the table with him and he did offer me a light for my expensive tailored cigarette, and it was oh-so-gloriously romantic, because I did impress him with my abundant sociability.

    But then ’twas that I did lean forwards too far, expressing as I was my pure emotionality because of his fantastic wit, and then it did happen that my bust became surprisingly, and totally to my unawareness, immersed within the soup. And how I could have died of shame! What must he think of me?, I did think. Of all the rotten things to happen to a sweet girl! I wanted to dash like a wastrel to the bathroom, hiding my superabundant shame. Instead, I decided to brave the consequences of my actions and face my embarrassment like a lady. I couldn’t stop the tears from starting to splutter though, and I did grab a serviette of colour red, in order to capture the mucous starting to spurt from my now obviously inflamed nostrils.

    Musician boy looked anxiously on as I proceeded to snort delicately in the red paper. It seemed that there was nothing he could do to help alleviate my psychological excruciation.

    That was the point when he remarked my nose had turned a bright red. I was embarrassed beyond words, and that ishow I honestly felt. So flabbergasted was I at his words, I could have wept for weeks without relief from the embarrassment.

    Leaping up, as if to leave, I started off, intent to check myself within the safe confines of the ladies restroom. Yet alas, dear reader, events were to turn from bad to worse. For right at this moment, a post appeared in front of my head. Its appearance was an omen — as if to save me from the preposterousness of my situation. I could not help but see it as a sign, perhaps from Life itself. Though, what was Life itself trying to tell me? I knew in a second when I gave up my consciousness willingly but gratefully at last, I did drop into a dead fate, for Life itself has its way when circumstances get too overwhelming.

    Did I say that life has a way of saving us from ourselves?? Understatement of the week!

    The interventions in our lives by Life are the only true moments worth living for! I’d bumped my head — but so the fates must have ordained it, for in a minute I was woken by my handsome Prince. That was a sign for me to drop the musician, whom I had failed to impress, in order to embrace my real fate, which had been pointed out by my collision with the post.

    I more than thanked my gracious and hot, blustering Prince with a fainting voice as I swooned once more, rapidly going in and out of consciousness. With every movement I made towards death’s door, I could tell my prince was more alarmed than he had been before. I wanted Him to ravish me there and then, and with the kiss of life upon my lips, I knew right then how I’d received my wish!

    That was when I cried forth sweet and despairing words, believing I was a wounded bird with a broken wing. The Prince looked startled – relieved that he had saved my life. Alas, suddenly a horrible reality dawned on me. Oh oh oh! It must have been true, although I wish to god that it were not! What was it? Only that my supine state had caused my flesh to press against the ground — the hard, cruel concrete underneath my shoulders, torso and, above all, my thighs!! Fate could not have dealt a harsher sentence, after it had tantalized me so cruelly, so mercilessly, with this little bit of hope that I had finally encountered my dream.

    If only my Prince had known me in my more truer, much more vertical state, my dreams could have been fulfilled. No doubt, he’d have whisked me away forever. This heartless piece of information, dear reader, which I would regret to divulge, and yet cannot bring myself not to betray at my own expense, is that the Prince had almost certainly, I cringe to say it, seen me in the state wherein no lady should be seen. There is no sense in denying it: He must have seen my thighs as they appeared to him, 2.5X as thick as they would naturally appear, because pressed upwards, indeed verily extended sideways by the concrete. It is almost too embarrassing to write this, but I have written it all the same, for write I must do. It has been ordained.

    Oh cruel concrete and crueler fate! Never had I been so humiliated as in this instance! For nothing else could serve to explain his swift departure, back into the void, the darkness from which he’d came, but that my Prince had seen the thickness of my thighs against the ground, and been disgusted by them. Oh, thou cruel darkness! Thou too solid and impenetrable darkness! What wilt thou do with me next??

    I suffer, so much is True.

    Yet ’tis only for Thee.

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