C*nt Never Could

Holy shitwads, y’all! Gwenyth Paltrow appeared on Chelsea Lately—the only late, late night talk show with a woman behind the main desk—a couple of nights ago. This is, apparently, BIG news. Or the uproar could be that while on the show, Gwynnie called her grandmother a really, realllllly nasty name for the female genitalia. In case you are too chaste to know what the word is, then I’ll give you a hint, and perhaps you’d like to tell me what the fuck you’re doing reading this in the first place. Hm? Nothing? Mm-hmm.

For you sheltered mama’s boys, the word that Ms. Paltrow said begins with a “c.” It rhymes with “cunt.” Do you think you have it figured out? I’ll give you a sec. Thaaaaaat’s it. Yeah. Gwyn called her own grandmother that derogatory name because she was trying to riff off some stupid shit that Chelsea said about her grandma, which wasn’t even funny like 90% of what Chelsea says.

Well, my grandmother could kick both their grandmas’ asses in the kitchen; she smoked Marlboro Reds for sixty-five years; and she said things like, “Cain’t never could,” which means “Stop yer fucking bitching and whining and saying, ‘I can’t,’ and just do the goddamned thing I told you to do.” Whatever she told me to do generally concerned picking shit out of the garden in the Georgia heat and then shelling it for dinner as if I didn’t have better things to do in the air conditioned den where the t.v. was. “Peas cain’t shell themselves,” she’d bleat. To which I’d think, “Cain’t never could, you fucking peas.” I never said anything out loud, or I sure as shit wouldn’t be here whining today.

The thing that gets me about Gwyneth Paltrow’s c-word utterance is that every damned body is so shocked. Is there really anyone who still believes in the sparkling, studio-spun celebrity persona? Rock Hudson screwed boys, people. The jig’s been up for years. Gwyneth does not shit diamonds or have gold for blood. She isn’t immortal, as far as I know, and she calls her grandmother a cunt. She is one of the greatest actors I’ve ever seen, but since when does pretending well mean you’re better than everyone else? Shit. If that’s all it takes, where’s my fucking limo?  I’ve been married four previous times. Don’t tell me I cain’t act.

Thank You Notes for April 13

Dear spring weather in Middle Georgia,

You are usually such an enjoyable season what with your plethora of fragrant blooms, your gentle breezes that whip my hair lightly from my face so that I go around looking like a celebrity in a music video, and your temperate sunshiny days that crisp up nicely after cool-enough-not-to-need-the-AC nights. So I really appreciate your completely considerate shift to one million degrees this afternoon just as I was leaving for work. Keep up the trend! It’s awesome sweating so much that the raging rivulets carve an actual valley between my boobs. A family of deer and a couple of sparrows have moved in. Thanks.

Elane

Dear every single red light from my house to work,

Thank you for managing to turn red immediately before my car arrived at each of your intersections and for staying red as long as possible even when no other vehicles were visible for three hundred miles. Great work!

Elane

Dear air conditioner in my car,

Thank you SO much for fucking up. TODAY!

Elane

Dear April 13, 2011,

The only way you could suck any more is if you were on Friday.

Elane