Ann Coulter loves her cuntry.

As my husband reminded me of a quote from Family Guy this morning- "isn't there an O in country?"  


Not in this case honey.  Not in this case.

For full disclosure I will share two things here:

1) I'm a soccer fan.  I love it.  I have for years.  I liked it before you did.  I liked it before it was cool.  I liked it before it became big.  When it comes to soccer, I am the biggest fucking hipster you will ever know.

2) I was an Ann Coulter fan many moons ago.  No, not because I agreed with her on everything.  I appreciated that there was at least one (at the time) young, attractive woman representing conservatives.  While the wiki entry under "republicans" basically showed the two old guys from the Muppets, it was refreshing to see someone who didn't meet every GOP stereotype get some air time.  

Alas... we come to this.  Ann's "column" (in quotes because it's like calling the crap I took this morning a column) about soccer.

I am 99% positive Ann is taking the piss on this one.  I am not sure I should call it that though as taking the piss is grounded in humor, which I personally find absent in this dirge.  It's like making fun of someone for believing in gravity.

Then again, I don't want to believe she's so ignorant that what she says could possibly be based in what she really thinks. Surely it must just be to gain a few clicks and a few mentions in the media by throwing herself in front of the soccer bandwagon.  Cause for Annie, success is spelled "ignorant contrarian". 

Still, for the sake of allowing me to call her a fuckface publicly, I'm going to assume she was serious.  I'm going to assume the words she arranged into a pile of shit are simply because she's an ignorant, gaping arsehole.

Because really that's not so much of a stretch, right?

Let's take some of the greatest hits from her vomitous ode:

Individual achievement is not a big factor in soccer.

Is she some kind of psycho hose beast?  Has she not heard of Pele?  Beckham?  Ronaldo?  Why do we know these names?  Oh right... BECAUSE OF INDIVIDUAL ACHIEVEMENT.  Surely she must know this.  She can't be serious right?  I know it's difficult to see past the end of her nose (literally) but come on.  You can do better than this Annie.  I know it.

Even in football, by which I mean football, there are very few scoreless ties — and it's a lot harder to score when a half-dozen 300-pound bruisers are trying to crush you.

Two points here- does she know that the reason we call American football, uh, football, is because of its relation to um, soccer? There is a sport called rugby played in many other places and by some Americans. It's like American football without pads or incessant commercial breaks.  Those 300-pound bruisers come at you and you don't have some helmet to protect your fried blonde mane. Wanna play Annie?  

Anywho, rugby's full name is "rugby football".  Soccer was referred to as "association football" to separate it from rugby.  Association became abbreviated to "soc" and then morphed into "soccer".  American football has its name thanks to soccer.  Put that in your bowl of dust and eat it, Annie.

Secondly, the last time I checked American football players use their feet about the same amount of time soccer players use their hands.  So maybe we can come up with another name for American football that's more accurate... how about "roided, bloated, criminal, concussed ball"?

The prospect of either personal humiliation or major injury is required to count as a sport. 

While I find this point more akin to gladiator worship than sport, when was the last time someone was majorly injured in golf? Maybe Tiger's ex-wife kicked him in the balls especially hard, but does that count? Not to mention that in soccer referees and players being beaten and sometimes killed is unfortunately much more prevalent than the NFL.  In American football they just beat their wives and girlfriends.

Yes, I suppose it would make sense that Coulter can only take interest in sport that requires murder and mayhem. She's the queen of bomb throwing. Okay, they're not bombs, more like flaming handfuls of cow dung.

But that's why soccer is so perfect for her. The amount of nonsensical bullshit is a glove fitted to her claw.  I mean, um, hand.

In soccer, even the crowd gets injured.

Eric Cantona, aka god, kicking a spectator.

Players sometimes try to bite each other!

Suarez biting Ivanovic.

Come on Annie!  Get involved!  With your gnashers you could probably rise to the highest heights of individual achievement in soccer!  And if the rest of us are lucky, you'll suffer a major injury!

This next comment you're really going to love.  Honestly, it's sublime.

It's foreign. In fact, that's the precise reason the Times is constantly hectoring Americans to love soccer. One group of sports fans with whom soccer is not "catching on" at all, is African-Americans. They remain distinctly unimpressed by the fact that the French like it.

Hmm... right.  Okay.  So, Ann... my sweet Annie.  Are we using what African-Americans are interested in as some kind of barometer for the validity of an organized group trying to gain supporters/fans?  Oh goodie. Well then, I guess that's your Republican party fucked.

And her last point I'll highlight, which is definitely my absolute favorite of her fuckwittery...

If more "Americans" are watching soccer today, it's only because of the demographic switch effected by Teddy Kennedy's 1965 immigration law. I promise you: No American whose great-grandfather was born here is watching soccer. One can only hope that, in addition to learning English, these new Americans will drop their soccer fetish with time.

Yes, you read that right.  She basically just said "yo' mama" err, or "yo' great-grandfather" to a couple of generations of Americans.

I can appreciate her taking a swing at Teddy Kennedy.  We probably have all wanted to at some point.  But I find it hilarious that she is slamming soccer fandom for only being a product of heritage, when basically all the sports the US supposedly cares about are the exact. same. thing.  When was the last time you heard your Portuguese friend talking about the Cowboys game? Or how about that lady from Ghana you met?  Was she talking about Derek Jeter's retirement?  

I can't say for certain whether my heritage has influenced my love for the sport.  I'd like to brag and think I just looked outside my neighborhood to see if there was anything better out there and found soccer.  Yes, I'd like to think it's just because I'm so awesome that I turned off the tv on Sunday afternoons when NFL ruled the airwaves and looked for something different.

But perhaps it is because my great-grandfathers from Italy, who died before I was ever born, have been guiding me.  Yes they are shouting "FORZA AZZURRI" at me from beyond the grave.  That's it Ann.  It's only because my relatives who never had the opportunity to show me soccer at all, since it wasn't on tv, and wasn't on the radio, and wasn't even discussed in our news, influenced me so.  

How did you get interested in the NFL Annie?  Was it because your great-grandfather was a roided, concussed criminal?  Is that why you watch?  To reminisce about your heritage?  I feel you.  

It's just that my heritage is full of historically significant art, music, food, wine... and calcio (soccer/football).

You've got jock itch and busty cheerleaders.

Well done,  Annie.  Well done.

Three Simple Ways to Organize Your Desk

My desk is always a mess.  I'm what many people would refer to as, well, a slob.  But I took an organizing class and it turns out I'm not a slob at all.  I'm just someone who organizes everything in tangled, dusty, coffee stained sculptural filing systems. I'm not kidding.  There's someone whose job it was to say that my way of "organizing" is in fact nothing to be ashamed of.  So piss off.   

But as you all know I constantly strive to better myself.  Because the true sign of superiority is to acknowledge that you're not quite superior enough.  And I'm here to better you too.  Because the true sign of my awesomeness is being surrounded by the awesomest people on the internet.  Let's get our shit together, err, together.

Here's what a fucking mess my shipping area is:

Yeah, no filter is making this shit look any better.

I know you're looking at that photo and thinking, my god, what is that thing?  But I assure you it's all perfectly legal and if I need something on that desk, I know exactly where it is.  Cause I can still find the desk and I know there's probably something on there I need (pay no attention to the expensive camera teetering on the edge- that's exactly where I want it).

How to organize this mess?  I have three simple, quick and foolproof ways:

1) Cover it up.  

Mess?  What mess?

As you can see, organizing is as simple as taking some old towels and throwing them over the whole desk.  If you want to go a step further, maybe take some duct tape and make a hipster design on one or all of the towels. It gives it a trendy pop of metallic and the chevron design will have all your friends clamoring to ask you, 'where the... what the fuck?'

If you are out of old towels, sheets, target bags, etc, then perhaps this next suggestion is more your speed.

2) Make one pile of all your shit in the corner.  

If possible, only let guests look at the desk through a blurred edge filter on your iPhone.

Your desk used to have all tiny, little, shitty piles.  Now it has one massive mound of matter.  I'd call that fucking efficient!  Am I right?  My extra tip for this strategy is to take one unique architectural element and place it in the void left behind.  I chose a model of the Battlestar Galactica.  This item is your focal point.  It balances out the massive pile behind it.  And it's cool cause you just found it under all your shit you moved, and were like, "I totally fucking forgot I had this... but I have nowhere to put it so I'll just leave it here in this new empty space I have to fill up."

And finally, if you're really in a bind and neither blood stained pillowcases to cover the desk are available, nor the strength to push everything over to one side, here is my top tip for desk organization.

3) Shut the fucking door.

My hands look so old in photos.

1) Find the handle on your office door.
2) Grab it with your hand and pull the door to the point where it meets the wall.  You should hear a clicking sound.
3) Add a sign.  Handmade is cool if you have time.  Smiley face is recommended but not required.

Remember folks, cleanliness is next to godliness.  But when it comes to cleaning, I'm a fucking atheist.  

Summer Is Coming. And I ain't raising no Joffreys.

Summer is coming.

Yeah, I can see why Game of Thrones used winter.  Cold. Frozen. Hard. Unforgiving. The imminent arrival of summer doesn't inspire the same level of dread- what with its sunshine and breezes. Unless... You're a parent.

With your kids getting out of school, use of the phrase "summer is coming" is like saying the wildlings are headed toward the wall.  In this case though, one is a horde of violent, impulsive, verging on cannibalistic, devoid of civility, bribe taking mercenaries... And the other is the wildlings.  The wall is your house- especially any room or chair you want to be in. The children may not be sophisticated, but like the wildlings, they outnumber you and smell weird.

While the real estate agent neglected to tell you that your home didn't come equipped with a giant scythe, she did say it's illegal in your state to lock your kids out and pray for reinforcements. I think arrows and hot oil are also no no's, but check with your local municipality to be sure. 

Oh, I'm being slightly unfair.  My children would never actually eat other people.  But if I went away for a month, and no one was cooking for them, I think the cats should be nervous.

This is where my daughter keeps the severed heads of her victims... to snack on later.

Still, with summer on its way I figured I'd share my tips for surviving the season.  Note, I do not guarantee these are all legal.  Or helpful.  Just... tips.  

  • Make your children do chores.  Yup.  You read that right.  Get them up.  Get them out of bed. Make them work.  Just because it's summer doesn't mean they should be on vacation. When the hell do you get a vacation from their runny noses and farts? NEVER!  Have them garden.  Have them sweep. Have them clean the privy.  Make them churn the butter.  I don't care what century you're living in.  Kids are just small humans.  And humans were made to do shit.  Literally and figuratively.  Give them a list each day and a time within which it must be completed.  You'll never get to be the dictator of a third world country. But by gosh you are the despot of the third world shithole you have a mortgage on.  Use your power.
  • Start drinking.  I am not advising anyone to become an alcoholic.  I just advise you to kick back. Have a cocktail a couple of nights a week.  Make them fancy if you want.  Pretend you're in Mad Men if it helps. Adults need adult beverages.  Throw the children one juice box and make them fight over it while you laugh. 

Dark N Stormy- a portion of dark rum topped off with ginger beer (like ginger ale but oof strength).  Try one.  Trust me.

  • Kick the kids out of the house.  Really.  Now of course this might depend on their ages as if they're too young, you could end up with a mugshot (though that would be sort of badass).  Use your own best judgment on this one.  Oh, our kids spend so much time on their computers and phones and kindles and blah, blah, blah, blah, FUCKING BLAH!  WHY DO YOU THINK THEY DO THAT? HUH? BECAUSE WE FUCKING LET THEM!!!!!!!!!!!!  Remember, you are Saddam Hussein* and your house is Iraq.  No bitches be frontin unless you allow that shit to go down.  Send the kids outside.  Give them some supplies.  Maybe sidewalk chalk. Or a ball.  Or some water guns.  Or real guns.** And let it be all Falllujah in the yard while you lounge in your presidential palace.  *Note this should not end with you being hanged.  But keep all rope and gallows away from your children as a precautionary measure. **Don't give the kids real guns you moron.  

Can you see the fear in his eyes?  I got this.

These tips might sound like common sense.  But all too often I see parents complaining about their children and what they do or don't do.  I'm no saint.  My kids aren't perfect.  But for fuck's sake I'll be damned before I let some midgets who share my DNA act turn into adult fuckheads.  We have enough of those already.

Being a parent is a big responsibility.  And during the summer we can't count on the government to ruin our children like they do the rest of the year.  When school is out we are on our own against the Joffreys we've sired (not the incest bit). They are just waiting in their little rooms with their little crowns and little crossbows. And since you don't have any poison, you need other weapons in this battle. Stand fast my friends. Summer is coming.