"you sound like a fucking idiot. im sorry, i got this page from a google search, but seriously this is one of the dumbest, most ill-thought opinions i have ever seen"
Well...allow me to retort:
Thank you so much for visiting my blog today! While I find your use of the phrase "fucking idiot" when referring to me both unnecessary and abusive, this housewife is humbled that my writing evoked such strong feelings in one of my readers.
I will agree with you on one thing: my opinion is considerably less researched and thought-out than a college thesis, but that's the dangerous beautiful thing about blogging. Any jackass can type their stupid opinion and publish it as fact, so that it can in turn be read and scrutinized by total strangers.
Rickie Fowler is the Justin Bieber of golf, so I knew that when I chose to take on such a polarizing public figure that I would be met with mixed reactions. I receive a lot of traffic on my blog thanks to this post and people who Google "Rickie Fowler tool" and "Rickie Fowler hair", so I know I am not alone in my opinions regarding this short, flamboyantly dressed boy with the pretty hair. I also get a lot of traffic from Google Image searches, presumably from admirers such as yourself who are perhaps dazzled by his style and charisma, or wish to run their fingers through his long, luxurious hair.
The time stamp on your comment tells me that you were Googling Rickie Fowler at 3:00 in the morning, so I will trust that you are an authority on "fucking idiots". As a new mom who is frequently awake at that hour, I know all to well that 3:00am is the fucking idiot's time to shine.
My husband is a golf pro in Dallas, and my Rickie post was actually written at his request. He and his other golf friends will be so amused when they find out I pissed off, or at the very least annoyed, one of Rickie's devotees. In his opinion, the only person who is a bigger tool than Rickie Fowler is somebody who is a fan of Rickie Fowler.
That said, we welcome all opinions here at Three Mutts and a Baby, and if you happen to read this and still feel strongly in defense of Rickie Fowler, I invite you to write a guest post at any time rebutting my opinion.
I generally find Princess Wonky Eye kinda gross, but here she looks like a sun-kissed fairy. She's really set the bar high for women arrested in Vegas for felony cocaine possession. I hope that if I ever find myself in that position that I look half as good as she does. Tip of the hat to you, m'lady.
Favorite Lesbian: Jane Lynch
For bucking the proud tradition of lesbians wearing menswear and proving that lesbians can rock a glamorous evening gown on the red carpet.
Favorite Jersey Girl: Olivia from Jerseylicious
For being a golden, glamorous, gorgeous guidette with a heart of gold.
Favorite Alaskan: Jewel
I remember a simpler time, when Jewel was the only Alaskan anybody knew [sigh]. Jewel was my great grandmother's name, Jewel shares a birthday with Steve, and she's just a beautiful, unique, authentic person. I'm a big fan.
Favorite Comedian: Joel McHale
Joel's pretty great, if you like funny, smart, successful hot guys. I know I do. Did you see the episode of Community where he takes his shirt off to play pool? Muy caliente!
Favorite Insult: "You're garbage!"
Have alls yous bitches been having secret catfights where you call each other "garbage"? I have never in my life heard that thrown around so frequently. I've heard plenty of name-calling in my day ("redheaded freak" that I am), but not this.
What was my favorite insult prior to this? "You're glib." Thank you, Tom Cruise!
"Matt. Matt, Matt, you don't even — you're glib. You don't even know what Ritalin is."
Favorite Celebrity Dog: Stains the cupcake eating dog
He won't eat the cupcakes, but he sure wants to! Join the club, buddy. His 15 minutes of fame were so 2008, but I still wanted to show him some love.
This soundbyte never gets old to me. It's my favorite thing to say to Steve:
Who doesn't love Oklahoma State coach Mike Gundy's press conference hissy fit? I'm a man! I'm 40!
Here, Coors had a little fun with it:
My other favorite football phrase, courtesy of Terrell Owens: "That's my teammate, [sob] that's my quarterback." [A single tear rolling down the cheek]
And if we're on the subject of football players crying like little girls...
Oh no, she didn't! I forgot it's against the law to make fun of Tim Tebow. Here's a peace offering:
"Santa Claus writes letters to Tim Tebow."
"Lance Armstrong wears a Tim Tebow bracelet."
"Tim Tebow ordered a Big Mac at Burger King, and got one."
I'm an Auburn graduate, and the child of two LSU alumni, so my love for SEC football runs deep. It seems that most fans of an SEC team hate all or most of the other SEC teams, but living in Texas I have developed a fondness for these schools I considered rivals. That's what happens when you move to a foreign land where people don't know what the SEC is, they think Auburn University is in Georgia, and, upon learning I am an Auburn grad, smile and say "Go Eagles!" I don't correct them. I also don't correct people who say "Roll Tide" to me because they assume that since I'm from Alabama that I must be an Alabama fan. I just smile and say "Roll Tide".
You may think I'm a traitor, but trust me, you'd do the same thing. These people don't want to hear me clarify my allegiance and explain the rivalry. They really don't care. On the upside, I never run into folks with Crimson Tide-related tattoos (not that I don't think they're lovely)
This body art is mystifying. The first thought that enters my mind is that when this dude gets a back pimple, it looks like The Bear has a zit. That's crazy. I have to respect his commitment though. There isn't any person, place or thing that I would pay tribute to with that much body art.
Speaking of "Roll Tide"...there's a Birmingham-born comedian named Rickey Smiley, and he used to host a morning radio show in Birmingham. He is known for prank calls and a character named Buford, who is a die-hard Bama fan from Alabaster. Buford sings a song called "Roll Tide". It's hilarious, I don't care who you pull for! Fast forward ten years...I've recently moved to Dallas and am feeling kind of homesick. Searching the radio stations, I discover Rickey Smiley's morning show in Dallas, and just as I land on the radio station, "Roll Tide" begins to play. It made me feel like I was back home! You wouldn't believe how happy this song made me:
Flo from Progressive and the Old Spice Guy really need to school some folks on how this commercial thing is done. I'm seeing some awful stuff lately.
The Brown Hand Center
"Daddy's Baby Guuuuhl!" This commercial for Dr. Brown's patented, world-renowned endoscopic carpal tunnel surgery has been creeping out the citizens of Texas for a while now. It's time you all be weirded out. This is just a clip of the commercial's ending. It airs at least 20 times a day in Dallas. Dr. Brown doesn't even have a license to practice medicine, ever since he tested postive for cocaine. See the beautiful brunette? That's his fourth wife, and he was arrested last week for beating her...again. The good doctor twisted her arm behind her back, as if to break it. Kind of gives new meaning to The Brown Hand Center's slogan: "The Brown Hand Center will care for you, just as I care for my own family." The hell you will!
NuvaRing
It's a commercial within a commercial, and they're both terrible. The song, the animation, the homely girl who claims to "love" the commercial within the commercial, yet knows so little about the product that she asks her friend, "Don't you have to, uh, put it in?" Umm, I don't know a better way to say this, but if you're not comfortable with the idea of inserting something in your bajengo, you probably don't need birth control in the first place. You're not ready for sex. Then there's the sassy brunette who is all too eager to discuss NuvaRing at length with her ignorant friends. The way she's smiling with her eyes (Tyra calls it "smizing") it's as if she's been waiting for the conversation to turn to sex and this is her opener. She says it's easy for her to put it in. Nice.
Werther's Original Caramel Chocolates
The woman in this commercial is so...pathetic. She is describing this candy with the kind of detail and enthusiasm most women reserve for describing their dream wedding. This commercial is missing a few details that would have really made this woman a more fully developed character: a giant crocheted doily for her sofa, a Harlequin romance novel on her coffee table, a Cathy comic on the refrigerator, and about seven or eight cats. And lose the wedding rings! This chick is so single.
Cinnamon Toast Crunch
(This is not the crappy present-day commercial, this is the vintage, circa 1987 commercial. Back when they really knew how to sell cereal.)
What happened to the cartoon bakers (Wendell was my favorite)? Why is General Mills marketing this cereal to adults? Why is this woman sitting alone in her living room, eating a bowl of cereal, and earnestly describing for her dog how much she loves this cereal? If it's so important to her to convey her love for Cinnamon Toast Crunch to her dog, why doesn't she just give him a bite so he can taste the cinnamon sugary goodness for himself? When she says, "Y'know when I tickle your belly and you get that feeling of ohhhh yeeeeahhh" to describe how the cereal makes her feel, it makes me uncomfortable. She and Cinnamon Toast Crunch need to get a room. Yeah, this is the dog. He's embarrassed too.
Folgers Coffee
This commercial confounds me. This woman (and I say "woman" because she looks like she's at least 30) walks into the kitchen, and her dad comments that she was out awfully late last night. Does this spinster have a curfew? She reminds him that she's not 16 (as if the presence of crow's feet on her face didn't tell us that already) and that he won't have to worry about that anymore because she's engaged. So, she was out late with her boyfriend fiance celebrating her engagement...wonder what they were doing out so late (Spoiler alert: she was giving him her "flower"). Then he says he knew she was getting engaged because the boyfriend already asked for his permission to marry her. Well, if he knew she was out getting engaged, why is he giving her shit? And why can't he just congratulate her? Why does he have to steal her "I'm engaged!" thunder by casually replying like, "Yeah, I knew that already". What a jerk. And your coffee tastes terrible. The only commercial they should ever air is the one where Peter comes home for Christmas.
Restasis
This doctor bugs me. For me to speak in such a robotic monotone would require horse tranquilizers.
Here are commercials done right. I have nothing to add, they're just hilarious:
1. Geico
Did this little piggy go, "wee wee wee" all the way home?
