The Worst Movie in History: A Quick Rant

I love bad movies.* Like love them. I hate even to use the term “bad movies” because it is tbh, personally offensive. “Starring Nic Cage” are the three greatest words in the english language. If you don’t agree, you deserve to be attacked by bees and burned alive. If you haven’t seen Vampire’s Kiss, stop reading this stupid blog and watch it freaking immediately. 

while I suggest you watch the whole movie and not just this clip, I needed to put something happy in this post ’cause I’m about to get rull mad

Why am I not doing a post on my favorite of these movies? Maybe I should (I will), but I don’t want to seem like I’m ripping off my own personal bibleHow Did This Get Made? Plus, that would probably devolve into a whole post about my undying love for my future baby daddy Jason Mantzoukas,** and I’m not ready for him to take out a restraining order.

So first, I’m here to talk to you about something very important. It’s the thing that I am perhaps most passionate about…more than any political or social issue, more than Nic Cage movies or my belief that Biz Markie is the closest thing we’ve had to the next Barbra Streisandeven more than my belief that Giada De Laurentiis is human colonoscopy prep***….maybe even more than my love for Zouks. I’m talking about the fact that Sweet Home Alabama is a terrible, horrible movie. More like ‘Not-So-Sweet Home Alabama’ *slam* This is a different kind of movie than the ones I was talking about before. There are no words to describe it. It literally enrages me. I am shaking writing this.

Screen Shot 2017-07-25 at 5.28.36 PM

This is waaaaay too high of a score. And 78% audience score!!! For shame, America….for shame

Loyal criers know that my only other movie review was a retraction of a previous slamming. But I assure you, I will not change my mind on this one.

Look, I’m not saying this movie was poorly made or acted. Everyone is doing a fine job…I guess. What I am talking about, is the fact that we’re all pretending that this is a charming Reese Witherspoon romcom when in fact, it is a movie about a fucking sociopath. (….like borderline Giada level)

somehow, more likable than anything she does in this movie

Okay, let me give credit where credit is due. Reese (her character….I refuse to call her Melanie Smooter because it’s a stupid name but if anyone ever deserved the last name Smooter, it’s this character) is #SocialClimberGoals. I mean, she seems to be putting on her first fashion show, and she’s not only the hottest thing in fashion, but she is in a high profile romance with the mayor of New York’s son. And just in case all you gold diggers out there, or confirmed loyal crying readers Scott Disick and Meghan Markle, are thinking pshaaaaa, big whoop, let’s remember that the mayor’s son is freaking McDreamy. Brava, Reese. Plus, let’s be real, (spoiler alert) she really only ends up choosing the other guy after she finds out he became successful (as a glassmaker/storm chaser?). If it were a story about her conniving rise to the top, I could be on board. But I’m not okay with us being told to accept this bitch as the second coming of [insert Meg Ryan/Julia Roberts character here].

cant-buy-me-love-5638140d6df57 (1)

there’s a joke here…

Instead of Reese, we are expected to believe that Candice Bergen is the villain. Okay, fine….she’s not the most moral character, but she is definitely not the least.

So she sends her dude to go spy on Reese down in ‘bama and get dirt on her? So what? SHE HAD EVERY RIGHT TO BE SUSPICIOUS! REESE WAS LYING ABOUT EVERYTHING. You can’t just change your name (okay, if my name were Smooter, I’d probably change it to Carmichael too) and be like okay all better now…ahem…Lana Del Rey (ok, she can). Did she even legally change it? Because if so, then there should be a record somewhere. If not, is she carrying around a fake id? You are the mayor of New York City…she isn’t a Soviet Spy† or in the witness protection program…it shouldn’t be that hard to find out who she is! And it’s not like she just rebranded…she’s straight up pinocchio-ing in magazine interviews. She was on the cover of W spewing lies like she’s Brian freaking Williams. Not only is that not chill from a publicity standpoint for public figures like Mayor Murphy Brown and her son McSecretary of Housing (Secretary McDreamy?), but isn’t she just being a good mother? What kind of relationship could they have? Did Reese spend the first few dates telling made up stories to McSecretary?

For all you luddites saying that we’ve become too dependent on technology and social media, I say that if the internet were as ubiquitous in 2002 as it is today, Reese never would have gotten away with this and this whole movie would have never happened. You know what? If this is the kind of girl we, as a society, root for, we deserve to be enslaved by the machines. In fact, I’m pretty sure Sweet Home Alabama direct prequel to Maximum Overdrive.


the only Alabamian I can get behind

Okay, next point. You may think “sociopath” is an extreme label to slap on Reese’s forehead (don’t even get me started on her haircut), but I have the evidence to back my shit up. I’ve seen enough SVU and Criminal Minds to know that the 3 things in youth they say are signs of a future sociopath/murder are fire-setting, cruelty to animals, and bed-wetting. Um…helloooo… Reese literally blows up a bank by tying dynamite to a cat’s tail. I don’t care about the justification they give, that is 2 out of 3 markers right there.

Not sold on the evil sociopath theory yet? WHAT ABOUT WHEN SHE STRAIGHT UP OUTS A DUDE??!!! You can’t just go around outing people that are in the closet. [note to self: before publishing, come up with Ethan Embry joke along lines of Can’t Hardly Wait to come out] But we’re just supposed to be like whoopsie-daisies?

A few thoughts before we get to the problematic ending:

Bitch, you dumb: If you wanted to keep your engagement a secret, why in God’s name would you wear your engagement ring on that finger on a red carpet? And turning it around doesn’t do much…in fact it just looks like a wedding band since it’s the finger that’s important, not the ring. You had the good sense not to wear it into the husband’s house….even though we literally just saw that the engagement was on the front page of every paper!

And what, you expected the dog to just like live forever? You’ve been gone for 7 years…that’s like 49 years to him! And then later you’re gonna act all sad about the dead dog, but when you think Bear is alive, you’re not even happy to see him…you yell at him to shut up! And what kind of monster sees another dog and thinks it’s their own? This is the kind of bitch who picks up the wrong kid from daycare and doesn’t realize it until there’s a fucking amber alert out on the shorty she ‘napped.

Ooooh, I am not done yet. Okay you think you’re all great and classy and better than everyone else. But like, it’s no one’s fault but your own if your designs look like Jaclyn Smith’s Kmart collection. Yeah, $30 is hella expensive for that piece of crap.


Mugatu’s assistant was Reese’s fashion designer mentor in this, so maybe Zoolander is a prequel to this and Maximum Overdrive?

Okay, let’s get to the whole ending. First of all, before we even get to the wedding, she kisses Josh Lucas, which helloooo is cheating on McJFK. But whatever. So, question is, who are you rooting for Reese to end up with? The answer should be “the Devil, in hell,” but let’s for one minute make the concession that Reese is the hero of this movie. Not that glassblower hubby proves to be a particularly bad guy, but hellooooo McDreamy!!! Even after it turns out that he is in a relationship built on lies with a white trash sociopath, he still wants to marry her! Okay, minute over. I don’t care who Reese ends up with, but WTF has Patrick Dempsey done wrong that he deserves to get left at the altar?†† I mean, he is such a good guy that she destroys him in front of everyone they know and he just kisses her hand and walks away. Reese…you think you can do better than this guy? Are you freaking kidding me?

And now for the most infuriating moment of this horror movie: Reese punches out Murphy Brown. And what? The audience is supposed to stand up and cheer with all the southern folk? Candice Bergen 100% got on board with the wedding once everything was out in the open. Sure, when she helps plan the wedding she forgets to check the weather, but come on, she’s the freaking mayor…she’s busy. In fact, she pays for the whole thing. I mean, technically, we only know that her son offers to pay, but even if it is “his” money, where do you think it really came from? I hope Reese had that lawyer she was using for her divorce on retainer, because if there is any justice in the world, she will be facing an assault charge soon.


Reese and McDreamy’s wedding ended worse than any Game of Thrones wedding

I lied…next comes the most egregious thing: Reese tells everyone “if you’re friends of the bride stick around. I’m going to go find me a groom!” They then take the cake (and god knows what else) that the basically-Kennedys paid for and have a party to celebrate her getting back together with the other dude. Seriously?!! Seriously? I can’t even talk about this anymore….I think I’m about to have a stroke.

*Omg I can’t even describe how excited I am for The Disaster Artist

**If you know me, you know how not kidding I am. Seriously, if anyone can hook it up with Zouks for me, I would do anything. I’d even watch Sweet Home Alabama on a loop for a week. Seriously. He walked past me at the Paramount lot and I literally started crying. Marc Maron recently had him on WTF and I literally could not finish it because I was having too many feelings–I had to do it over multiple sittings.

***YAAAAAS QUEEN NICOLE KIDMAN! You are a national hero. I haven’t been this proud to be named Nicole since The Simple Life was on.

†Ooooh…I might be into that movie!

††Okay, I guess he does get a happy ending in that he doesn’t have to spend any more time with this she monster, but that’s the only concession I’m going to make.

Note: I called this a “quick” rant because I majorly shortened my usual diatribe. I’m telling you this could have been an entire Lord of the Rings length tirade.


Miss Me?

Arrested Development. Gilmore Girls. Twin Peaks.Will and Grace. Crying in Ubers.

All beloved pop culture institutions. 2 cult tv shows, 2 critical and commercial hit programs, and 1 blog that has multiple subscribers and has been called “good” and “funny” by my dad (but also probably, “wildly inappropriate”*) and has been ‘liked’ by serial Facebooker, my mom. As I said, pop culture institutions.

They all also took a break before a triumphant return to appease public demands. Netflix did a new season of Arrested 7 years after it was originally canceled and we got more Gilmore Girls after it being off-air for 9 years, because apparently that’s how long it took us to forget how f-ing annoying Rory is. There will be new seasons of Twin Peaks and Will and Grace this year after 25+ year and 11 year hiatuses, respectively.


And lastly, 15 months to the day after my last post, I am back to give my adoring and loyal fans what they’ve been waiting for. I’m sorry, did I hear you scoffing at that? No I didn’t over the sounds of people literally cheering with excitement….And also because I’m not hovering over people forcing them to read this because while it’s been established that I’m insane…actually nevermind that sounds exactly like something I would do and also why else would you even be reading this? Well, just FYI I have been getting a lot of feedback from fans begging for new posts…here is a direct quote:

“If you’re going to just sit around all day doing nothing, you might as well write for your blog or whatever. Or clean your room. Also, did you steal my credit card and/or know anything about all these charges at SugarfishDiptyque, and the App Store for Candy Crush Soda Saga?” -Anonymous

If that’s not basically Roswell fans sending the WB thousands of bottles of TabascoI don’t know what is.

Okay, fine. I’m not delusional. I know I’m no Will and Grace or Arrested Development. Realistically, Crying in Ubers is the blog version of American Idol. No one was asking to bring AI back after only ONE YEAR off-air. No one. And even before we thought we were done with it forever, it hadn’t been great/that appealing in quite a while. But I’ll be damned if AI, and metaphorically, Crying In Ubers, wasn’t one of the highest rated shows of all time that changed TV as we know it and launched the careers of superstars like Kelly Clarkson, Carrie Underwood, and Taylor Hicks.**


NO. Bad Internet. JUST NO

So sure, we might all be rolling our eyes (while secretly hoping ABC brings back Brian Dunkleman to help cover in case Ryan Seacrest‘s time turner malfunctions), but even if my blog is the Kara DioGuardi years, I’m still raking in tons of views and beaucoup bucks.***


I was going to write something funny but I got so bored I fell asleep

After all this I’m back talk, you may be wondering why the break in the first place. Or, possibly, if I didn’t catch all the times I accidentally typed I’m black, you might be very confused and wondering if I read Rachel Dolezal‘s memoir one too many times. Note: I read it 6+ times (for work), so you decide if that’s too many.

Anyway, I don’t know what to tell you. I just haven’t had the ideas, or motivation, or inspiration or whatever. I think I just lost my funny. You have to be funny in the first place in order to stop being funny….BAM! Beat you to it!

I have always said if there is one character from film, tv, or literature to whom I am most similar it is Austin Powers. This whole not being funny/being able to write is just like when Fat Bastard steal’s Austin’s mojo. I’ve lost my mojo. And just like Austin, this is preventing me from banging Heather Graham


The resemblance is uncanny….although my chest is a lot more hairy

I may not be fully there yet….I really do wish I had made my grand return with a funnier post…but I’m on my way. So, like a phoenix rising from the ashes, I return. So grab your tissues and embrace your inner psycho. And if you’re an uber driver in LA and you hear hear sobbing in the backseat as you make your way from any number of bars to Beverly Hills, don’t be alarmed…the bitch is back.

To my loyal fans (read: mom and dad), I promise I will make you laugh again, and so help me God, I will boink FHM‘s 97th Sexiest Woman in the World of 2002.

*Pls see my reasoning for not wanting to give a dude “a blowie” while watching a Kevin James movie….and no, it is not that Kevin James on a Segway isn’t a turn on, because duh, it totally is. Kevin James on a Segway is also the name of my future band or a sex act I am going to invent. Or both.

**I was going to go with someone funnier like Sanjayabut that seemed too obvious. Plus, I would just like to remind everyone that this opposite-of-a-silver-fox won.

***No, I have not in any way monetized this site. Except that I pay for my domain name, so I literally am making negative dollars a year.

A Crier’s Guide to Social Media

If our iPhones are good for anything, it’s texting (I guess), Uber, and social media apps. (Post to come later on dating apps. Instead of this whole dance where I try to be funny, let’s just jump right into discussing the reasons our data charges are through the roof and our phones, whose batteries should last over a day, are dead by the time we’re getting our midday iced coffee… shall we?


Kids don’t even use Facebook anymore. It’s for parents and our generation.* We are officially unhip. Regardless, Facebook is a great starter add for a friendship. There are always those people who you follow on Twitter or Insta that you’re not Facebook friends with and something about that (unless you don’t actually know them) seems a bit off. Even worse, it’s always awkward when you’ve known someone for a while but you’re not Facebook friends. How far down the road of a friendship or acquaintanceship does it become awkward to send a friend request? Sooner than you’d think, so you’re better off doing it right away.

Facebook is the perfect place to post all the pics that didn’t quite make the Instagram cut. Share a link or 2 but no need to be going with full on statuses. TimeHop is a fun way to reminisce in the days before twitter when all the statuses started with “is _____.” Remember when they got rid of the permanent “is?”….GAME CHANGER. But let’s leave the past in the past. Just don’t be that person. It’s always the old people (aka our relatives and their friends who add us) who post paragraph long statuses. Like, no Aunt Mildred, I do not want to read your political rant. A word to the wise: Don’t Be Aunt Mildred.


The Facebook relationship status was also a major step back in the day. Many of us still have our residual “it’s complicated” with our bestie without even noticing it, but when to take a real relationship Facebook public used to be a big deal. Now no one cares anymore and it really cuts in to the whole stalking aspect. The stalk factor is still decent with all the pics laying around. Since we’ve been using this puppy since the demise of MySpaceyou can stalk back to superbitch Cindy’s pre-nosejob days. You can also stalk other peoples “wall-to-walls” with the See Friendship option if you’re really committed. (although since I started writing this post like 8 months ago I think you maybe can’t anymore) And the best part is, there’s no breadcrumb trail back to you, unless you accidentally like something which is a lot harder on Facebook than let’s say Instagram. Of course there’s still that paralyzing fear I’ve had since I was 15 that I would type someone’s name into the status bar instead of the search bar. That shit still gives me nightmares.

 The Breakup

The defriend is pretty uncommon. I’m still friends with the people I went to Hebrew School with….just in case. I’m still friends with my worst enemies who have distanced themselves from me (and I from them) on just about every other Social Media platform. People go on “purges” or whatever but it’s not worth it. No one cares. Literally, if someone defriends you, you probably will never notice anyway. Then again, if your parents are anything like mine, they may be the fucking Emily Thorne of holding grudges.I agreed to add them when I went off to college (and my bro did just now for his semester abroad!) And then in a very stupid night I uploaded a pic of me kind of making out with a dude. Now instead of a normal person and just deleting the incriminating photo, I immediately defriended the ‘rents. My dad particularly was so mad at me that he refused to reaccept for like a year. Crying In Ubers Takeaway: Do Not Cross Bruce Resnikoff (a man who prides himself on 100 fb friends and would not accept anyone until recently if it meant going over 100)

Stress Level

Screen Shot 2016-02-08 at 3.17.21 PM

2 out of 5 “like” thumbs up

Facebook shouldn’t be very stressful. If I had the computer imaging prowess (or more accurately the time and passion) I would have given it 1 and a half thumbs. We talked a little bit about the stress about when to friend but who cares. The biggest stress factor (as mentioned above) is the status/search bar mix up. Like any social media there’s always the possibility of adding or liking something of your ex’s gf’s brother but I feel like it’s rare–especially with privacy settings. There’s maybe a stress factor of choosing a prof pic or album title, and there’s of course the job/college search fear. Are your privacy settings strong enough? What do you change your name to? I went by Nicki Rez for a while, I had friends who dropped their last name completely (or made it their middle name), or some that just split up their name completely: aka Gaby became first name Ga last name By. I also felt weirdly haunted by my number of friends. I felt if I had under 1,000 I was basically a loser living under a rock like Patrick fucking Star. Then again that’s just psycho, plus there’s always the Bruce approach of keeping it tight.


Before I say anything I would like to make a little PSA: NO MOM, YOU CAN’T ZOOM IN. STOP TRYING.

Instagram got maybe an artsy vibe rap at first. Hot off the tails of Hipstamatic (note to self: fact check this whole statement)**, it was where amateur photographers got their day and the everyday man could no longer be trusted –as if they were Mariah Carey getting photoshopped to death on an album cover– thanks to all the filters. Unpopular Opinion: X-Pro II and Lo-Fi for life! I mean, we now have to use the #nofilter disclaimer when we actually do see a flipping awesome sunset. Spoiler alert: #nofilter is normally a lie and I truly believe it should be monitored and regulated not by Instagram but by the fucking Ferderal Government! But for me, Instagram was all about a reprieve from the mupload. Freshman year of college I was accused one muploading (to Facebook) specific situations, which was apparently not national standard practice. Well Insta is the place for that.

This photo of my friend's LITERAL V CARD is an unnacceptable mupload but this Coachella screenshot is a great Insta

My friend’s LITERAL V CARD is an unnacceptable mupload but this Coachella screenshot is a great Insta

Then came the era of foodstagrams. Ugh. Quote from my mom who joined Insta last week (or any other adult): “I don’t get it. It’s just people posting pictures of their food.” Restaurants have literally banned taking food pics. We’re at the point of #fortheinsta where people get food they have no desire to eat just to gram it.***

But it’s a great place to follow celebs and bloggers, and thank god for the memes of Fuck Jerry, The Fat Jewish, and Girl With No Job.


A great stalk machine for those you follow and people with non-private profiles. You go to a page and literally minutes later you realize you’re 80 weeks in. But Instagram stalking is like The Hurtlocker.† The double tap favorite is the work of Satan. Need I say more?:

*can’t find one of the million memes to put here*

Also while not quite stalking. There is truly nothing more satisfying than reading through comments on celebs photos. People are insane and idiotic and aggressive and it’s hilarious. I’ve heard great things about Kardashian insta comments. People are just fucking insane. Like a picture of a puppy turns into a rant against Israel in less time than it takes for me to take off my bra as soon as I get home.

The Breakup

Unless it’s someone who rarely posts or posts way too often, why unfollow? I mean it’s not that insane to unfollow someone, just a little overkill. Just don’t fucking like their photos. If you really want to hit someone where it hurts, comment on their photo without liking it. It’s basically the most evil, semi-passive aggressive, fuck you thing you can do. The psychology is that if someone just completely ignores your photo, hey…maybe they didn’t see it, but if they comment, you know they saw it and STILL didn’t heart that bitch. Regina George would salute you for a good comment without a like.

Since there’s no indication if someone is following you back when you look at their page (like the Follows You on Twitter), the only way to find out about an unfollow is a separate app like Friends +. I held off as long as I could, but I caved and I’m all about it now. Like it’s necessary if you’re going to keep an accurate shit list. Apparently there’s also a “ratio thing” about followers to people you follow but that seems more like a young people’s concern to me.

Stress Level

3.5 favorite hearts

3.5 out of 5 like hearts

I stress a lot about Instagram. Probably more than I should. We’ve already touched on the hair trigger like and deep CIA stalking implications. But there’s also very much that “like” threshold. Do you know there are actually known peak times of when to post for optimal likes? JESUS. I swear to god, these young folks get more likes than anything I’ve ever seen. It’s like hundreds. An insta is considered a failure if it gets less than a buck fifty double taps. Who gives a shit? It’s all about that 11 like threshold. Once you get to 11 (or 10 and then you like it yourself) it stops becoming a pathetic list of names and changes to a number. I’m not particularly popular, so my high count is probably 71 (pic of T-Swift and Alanis Morissette doing You Oughta Know at 1989). Whatever. I’m fine with that. Needing a lot of likes has gotta be like a man buying a literal peen shaped sports car. But in all fairness, a photo of me in my Molly Weasley finest has hit 100,423 (at time of publish) likes, soo….


But I will tell you, that slow slow wait for likes when people just aren’t having it is like that crazy limbo layer in Inception (although I think technically time goes by faster, not slower there but it still kind of makes my point)†† or the Quantum Realm in Antman. Sure there are always those people you can rely on to give you a like on everything. And they’re great. But true friendship is being able to tell someone to like your Insta ASAP. And disclaimer: both of my parents are on Instagram and never post anything so it kind of seems like they’re there just to like my shit but I swear to the Insta Gods (aka Fuck Jerry and The Fat Jew) that they’re not. And on the subject of liking your own photos: some say it’s okay to get to a target and then delete later. I try not to do it, but I like a quote from my brother (which is actually a quote from his tennis coach on fb statuses): “Of course I’m going to like my own post. If I didn’t like it, why would I have posted it?” And that was today’s food for thought.

There’s also the stress level of a good photo and caption. Is it even Insta worthy at all? What’s the right angle? Does it need editing in Afterlight or Facetune (there is so much photoshopping—literally trust no one! ahem….Kim Kardashian and Lindsay Lohan)? Filter, or nah? Square Ready? And really think your captions through. A pun is always solid. A movie quote or lyric is fire. It’s not easy though. I recently went through a bout of writers block (hence the lateness of this post) that even extended to other creative endeavors like painting, but I knew it was really bad when I told my therapist (direct quote): “It’s gotten so bad I can’t even come up with a good Instagram caption.”


The second the concept was described to me, I responded, “oh that’s totally for nudie pics.” And so I immediately downloaded it and went crazy….lolz jk. Next time you’re walking down the street and rear end a girl who has inexplicably stopped for a duck face selfie, you can blame Evan Spiegel. It’s amazing the lack of shame people have when it comes to snap chatting in public places. It’s also now transformed into like just making silly faces at friends to a celeb social media form. HILLARY CLINTON HAS A SNAPCHAT. It has literally made celebs, Hello DJ Khaled–bless up. People are obsessed: Kylie Jenner is this close to following in her father’s deadly footsteps. But parents seem to have the same issue grasping Snapchat as they do with the whole enlarging Insta pics. They’ll hear about a snap you got and then be like show it to me and I’m like I CAN’T IT’S GONE THAT’S HOW THIS WORKS! But now you have stupid replay and stories (which while great almost defeat the original concept of the app). Snap has gone through so many changes it’s too exhausting to even write about. But I guess I kind of will.


It used to be you could click on any friend and see their top 3 best friends. It was the stuff of jealous girlfriends’ dreams. It was amazing. But they fucking took that away from us. But, now there’s all these weird emojis and my girl Maisie gave me a little bit of an education. The sunglasses guy 😎 apparently means that one of your best friends is also best friends with that person. Unfortunately, Maisie only know this because it helped a friend (lets call her girl 1) realize that her (girl 1’s) bff was hooking up with girl 1’s ex boyfriend (or maybe current I forget). There are also a bunch of other symbols, some of which are really stupid, check them out if you want here. You can’t screenshot anything without the person being notified so like sleuth stalking potential downgraded (there are, of course, ways around this). Also you can’t tell who has watched your story, so I guess that goes in this category.

The Breakup

If you delete someone as a snapchat friend you’re a stupid idiot. It’s the most pointless thing. Like what if one day there’s something you just need to send them for 10 seconds or under. Seriously, think of your future. It’s also just stupid because like who cares. Don’t send them anything and don’t look at their stuff. If you’re really concerned you can block them from viewing your story, but even that’s a little overboard.

Stress Level

1/2 sent thingies

1.5 out of 5 sent thingies

There should be no stress here. I guess in case you send something to the wrong person. Or like that your nudies are going to get shared or hacked or whatever


Guys I love twitter but please don’t judge me I’m tired and I could be watching I Know Who Killed Me right now so would you forgive me if I just didn’t do this one? Thank you twitter for a lot, but mostly the end of stupid short Facebook statuses.




No I’m not including it because I’m a graduating senior so my stress level on the subject is about 10 out of 5 endorsements.

*Parents meaning both our parents, and those in my generation who are now parents. Scary how fast that happened—-I’m still laughing when my teacher says “do do”

**Yeah right. Like I, or you, care enough to warrant that

***Yes I’m guilty of this: I grabbed this donut at work and 2 minutes after snapping it passed it on to a passing hungry superior

†While I have yet to see it, you can bet I will for love of my life Jeremy Renner. Speaking of which, here’s a little gift for you guys:

tumblr_m8i7ymZQvt1rzz8vno5_500 tumblr_m8i7ymZQvt1rzz8vno1_500Screen Shot 2016-02-08 at 4.28.31 PM

††Semi humble brag: I went to the premiere of this but missed out on a pic with Leo because someone wanted to leave the party early and go to Hooters. Aaaaaaand….Hooters turned out to be closed.

Crying in DeLoreans

For at least the last 5 years, every 6 months or so people claim it’s “Future Day,” aka someone has photoshopped the display date on time machine from Back To The Future Part II. It circulates like wildfire on Facebook, some idiot websites/news services pick it up, and everyone from celebrities to alleged superfans make it a Twitter trending topic. I am the first to be like Bitch, PleaseI would have stuck to my guns at the very least that it was October 2015 even if I had Robert Zemeckis and Michael J. Fox telling me otherwise.* But kids, it’s finally here. We are officially living in the fucking future!


I guess you can say I’ve seen the BTTF movies a lot. If a lot is a psychotic amount. I’m like know every line, read every website/book/piece of trivia, just this year wrote a paper for school on it obsessed. Like had for a very long time wanted to get married at the clocktower courthouse** When the Universal Studios fire happened in 2008, I was not worried about potential ruin to Universal Music masters (aka my dad’s livelihood), but priority #1 was how is Hill Valley?! I’m thinking about taking a trip to Japan solely because the Back To The Future ride is still open there, despite the fact that simulation rides make me violently ill. You know in How I Met Your Motherthey say “if you’re not trilling it at least once every three years, the dark side wins?” Well, they really should have been talking about BTTF not Star Wars.

Sweeping declaration:

If you’re not trilling it at least every 3 MONTHS, Biff wins you’re tacky and I hate you.

The only fan I ever thought could match me was Seth McFarlane, but he let me down just like they all do when he had Doc Brown show up in A Million Ways To Die In The West which is set in 1882, when Doc clearly didn’t arrive in the Old West until 1885.*** Seth does a disgustingly good Marty McFly though, so wash.

Anyway, I’ve been preparing for this day half my life. I was supposed to be graduated by now and my dad was going to get me a DeLorean for the day, but I’m stuck in Philadelphia learning about international business ethics and electoral systems. Regardless, I am celebrating in style.

I got my Casio Calculator Watch, my orange puffer over a denim jacket a nearly identical plaid shirt with maroon undershirt, and my pockets turned out.† Plus, I have my horrible, yet painstakingly made, Mattel Hoverboard. Notice I’m not holding a Pepsi Perfect not because I am Diet Coke to the death and would never get so close to a pepsi product, but because my internet made me miss the flash sale at midnight/also it wouldn’t have arrived yet duh. Spoiler alert: this is my Halloween costume. When worn by someone hot, the sexy version is called the Marty Mc So Fly.

Anyway, it may be what everyone else on the freaking internet is doing, but let’s take a look at how our 2015 matches up with Bob Gale’s.


Fucking World Series Winning Cubs

Look, I worked at a baseball agency one summer, but I usually do not give a fuck about baseball. But boy am I rooting for the Cubbies! The only times they’ve actually won the World Series were in 1907 and 1908. And now, in 2015, they’re still in in the semi-finals! Here’s the bad news, they now have to win 4 in a row to get to the finals. So basically it is beyond unlikely they’ll actually win the series, but at this point still a possibility. Here’s what I do know: if they lose tonight, they’re out. So my message to the Mets is if you kick the Cubs out of the playoffs ON Back to the Future Day, you are basically terrorists, Seriously Mets, throw the fucking game. Fun fact: In BTTF2‘s 2015, the Cubs beat Miami in the finals–which was particularly surprising since Miami didn’t have a pro baseball team in the 80’s. Guess who does currently have an MLB team? You guessed it, Miami! Bob Gale and Robert Zemeckis are basically the baseball versions of that World Cup Octopus. One more fulfilled sports prophecy: they predicted an entire sport- Slamball. In the wise words of Karen Smith: It’s like they have ESPn or something!


I can’t say that I wasn’t beyond disappointed when designers didn’t show inside out pants or outside pockets in 2015/6 presentations. Rick Owens (stunningly) gave us human backpacks, but Kanye, who spent thousands on a pair of Nike’s Back To The Future limited editions, couldn’t turn a pocket out in his Yeezy presentation? Granted, nude body suits don’t have pockets but you could have added a nod! Jeremy Scott? Nothing? I’m not faulting anyone for opting out of the double tie. As I mentioned, Nike made Marty’s sick shoes, so I guess we’re just waiting for tech savvy jackets. Our Canada Gooses will have to do for now.

 Queen Diana (and Madam President)

This is obviously a sad one. At the time, Princess Diana was still married to Charles, and of course still alive. Plus, people didn’t know Queen Lizzie would still be a boss bitch. I was going to write this post at the beginning of 2015 when I resolved to write more as a what to expect this year. At the time, I thought a Queen Diana could technically be possible by now since Kate was knocked up with 4th in line to the throne. I didn’t know if it would be a girl named Diana who somehow ended up queen at 5 months old with a planned trip to Washington…how could I? As for a woman president….well technically the headline predicting that one is from tomorrows newspaper. Attorney General Loretta Lynch is 7th in the presidential succession line, so god forbid something happened to Obama and his first 6 successors, we could have a woman prez tomorrow.

Fun Fact: US Secretary of Defense Ashton Carter is 6th in line, so haha Jack Donaghy!

Even Funner Fact: Ashton Carter’s full name is Ashton Baldwin Carter, so….are we calling Illuminati or what?



Hey. they may not be as cool as the ones Mattel crushed a generation of dreams with (or Griff’s Pitbull), but there’s no doubt “hoverboards” are a super hot trend for real this year.

Jaws 19

I love the Jaws movies. Especially the 11% Rotten Tomatoes rated Jaws 3-D. It may even be my favorite. Two words: Dennis. Quaid. (Oh! and BTTF Star Lea Thompson!) It’s a campy precursor to Blackfish. But its successor in the franchise, Jaws: The Revenge? Even I, the ultimate lover of bad movies, cannot even get through it no matter how many times I start it. There’s just a point a few minutes in where I, and not even in my usual white girl way, literally cannot. So, I guess what I’m saying is I’m glad this was just a joke. But like culturally…..Shark Week? I mean, I guess there’s something there.

80’s Nostalgia

Not so much right now as in recent years, but the 80’s are definitely back in that cocaine is definitely a thing. Right?

General Futureness/Technology

In BTTF2’s 2015, weathermen are 100% accurate down to the minute. Ummm this couldn’t be further from realistic today. I can’t even tell you how many times Siri has fucking betrayed me. It’s not even funny.

I mean we obviously don’t have flying cars or anything like that, but I’m pretty sure Limited Too sold me an alarm system for my bedroom that used my fingerprint the same way the houses of the future did. I mean I guess this is maybe an instance where Siri lives up to BTTF‘s expectations. Goddamn Siri. Also, lol fax machines in 2015.

I guess what I’m saying is that today’s a big day for me. I always figured today would come and everything would be all right, but after today the future’s just a big ole ball of uncertainty. Wow….I got really deep there. People should take me more seriously. I’m a real thinker. Oh and P.S., Lyft is offering DeLorean rides in New York. If I didn’t have those classes I was talking about, I would 1,000% be there and Crying in Lyfts. P.P.S. Let’s pretend I posted this at 4:29 pm PST.

*I am so sorry, I would never disrespect you Robert Zemeckis. You either, MJF. You’re a freaking national treasure (even if you are from Canada) This is the one time I am no Larry David!

**Outside, of course, since I’ve known it was a facade since I was a kid. Even though I wouldn’t trade it for the world, the downside to my dad driving me around the Universal Studios backlot as a kid was losing a bit of the movie magic. That and the fact that I still haven’t recovered from the trauma of seeing Woody Woodpecker walking around with his head in his hand.

***Yes, I understand it was winky and funny and I’m splitting hairs but come on Seth, how hard would it have been to say your movie took place 3 yrs later? I realized it immediately and it kind of distracted me the rest of the movie. Plus, I totally let it slide that the film took place in Arizona, not CA. Constant reminders to “think 4 dimensionally” prove that this is only a time machine, not Inspector Spacetime‘s phone booth!

†After I was so harsh on Seth you would be right to point out that I’m mixing outfits and this isn’t what Marty wears in the future (even before he dresses like his son he had already lost the vest and jacket) but I don’t care so screw you!


Harry Potter and My Journey of Self Discovery

You could say I’m obsessed with Harry Potter. But then again I constantly tell people I’ve met maybe five minutes earlier that I’m obsessed with them, so maybe obsessed is not even close to strong enough. Think you’re more into it? Challenge me to a trivia contest, I DARE YOU. Yes, I’ve seen all the movies a million times. Yes, I read all the books repeatedly,  buying them all at midnight* (which one year meant brainstorming with my mom how to sneak out of camp and her bribing an airport bookstore employee) and reading them straight through in about a day whether I was at a barbecue or at home forced to lock myself in my mother’s shoe closet.** And yes, I’ve even read them in Spanish. (That’s why my resume says I know how to say wand, house elf, and centaur in Spanish. Easily my most useful skill). I’ve read every supplementary book and website- Leaky Cauldron, HP Lexicon, and joined Pottermore early. I have an official wand. I was with you crying when my owl didn’t come. But I bet I got you beat here. I wrote my college essay (yes, my main personal statement) on Harry Potter.

Screen Shot 2015-07-25 at 3.39.17 PMNo need to read the whole thing. In fact please don’t. This is just proof.

Let’s get back to the content of my essay later. Specifically me being a Gryffindor. Anyway, I believe I’ve proved to you and many baffled admissions officers I’m a major Potterhead. So when they built The Wizarding World of Harry Potter (and especially the later extension) in Orlando***, I literally begged to go every chance I got. Anyway I don’t know how it took me so long, but I finally went last week. My godmother bet me I’d cry. No comment. I wrote a whole review but got rid of it and might post it later. Basically, it’s hard to describe the experience because on one hand it was the most wonderful place on Earth, but also I had such extremely high expectations–it couldn’t possibly be as great as I needed/thought it’d be, could it? I’m still digesting I think. For those of you who haven’t been. Go.

imagejpeg_0I even sat in Sirius’s motorcycle with my girl Rowan acting like she Harry and I’m Hagrid (no giant jokes please)

Coming Out of the Closet Cupboard Under the Stairs

see what i did there?!!!!

Hello. My name is Nicole. And I am a Slytherin. And I’m fucking proud of it. Not only by self identification, but even Pottermore placed me there. But by that point (when everyone who didn’t cheat is creating a new account so they can be sorted Gryffindor) I already knew I was a Slytherin.


So I guess I should start by addressing the obvious. As you can see from my essay. I clearly lied in my college application. I said I’d be a Gryffindor. I actually found an earlier draft that was fucking awful and was entirely about me being sorted and why I’d be a Gryffindor and about bravery and shit. I mean I guess it wasn’t a lie because back then I probably thought I was a Gryffindor, but I still got accepted under false pretenses. For all I know, that could have been the deciding factor.†

So I’d like to issue a formal apology and appeal to Penn Dean of Admissions Eric Furda. I regret my words and hope that you do not rescind my admission and let me finish out my last year. I understand if you must put an asterisk on my diploma and transcript….it’s only fair. Or maybe some kind of anti-endorsement on my LinkedIn page? I don’t know, whatever actions you think necessary.

So anyway, being true to myself I bought myself a Slytherin robe at Madame Malkins, The talking mirror  told me that green was not my color, but let’s face it she was just jealous because I look hella good in green. At least half my closet is green. I tried not to wear green on St. Patrick’s Day but found it physically impossible. Unfortunately the lady who worked there literally wouldn’t let me buy the one I wanted because, exact quote, I am “bustier than most all other women” and when my adult companion suggested I wouldn’t always wear it buttoned, the woman snapped that Professor McGonagall would never stand for it. You gotta give it to her for her commitment, but the next size up was so much bigger I’m now stuck with a $100+ cloak (FYI, in the books that robe would have only cost 80 sickles which is $47.39 in American muggle money. I did an inflation calculation but I don’t want to bore you with all the factors of that) that could fit me and Malfoy in it. Small/Medium my ass. 

I guess I’m dressing as Sexy Pansy Parkinson for the next 5 Halloweens…. 


I want to make it very clear… despite the above photo, while I am a Slytherin, I AM NOT A DEATH EATER. (well obviously none of us are actually death eaters but I mean if I were really in that world I wouldn’t be one). It’s just Dark Marks are the only tattoos in the HP world and tattoos are awesome. As for why I’m using Voldemorts sword: #fortheinsta.

Don’t worry…..I also went full Harry/Dumbeledore’s Army on my other side:


Anyway, here’s how I see it. First of all, not all Slytherins are evil. Fucking Merlin was a Slytherin. So ha! Though I don’t know much about Merlin so maybe ha me? Pottermore literally calls it “the coolest and edgiest house in the school.” It’s like being in a sorority wear everyone wears all black and does coke, but cooler because like magic and shit. Also, I could wear snakeskin print till the cows come home, so I got that covered.

Let’s go process of elimination. I’m not a Hufflepuff. One of their defining traits is patience. Yeah fucking right. I haven’t waited in a line for more than 2 minutes since I was like 5 years old. And that was one time to buy a Furby. I’m certainly not a RavenclawIn my 4 years at Penn, I’ve been in the library a total of 2 times. And only because I was basically forced. So it’s down to Gryffindor and Slytherin. I can say I’m brave and heroic all I want but when was the last time I saved a baby from a burning building? EXACTLY. Cunning and resourceful? Check. Ambitious? Yeah, when I take my ADD meds. Plus, I’m kind of a bitch.

And my love for Harry? Well first of all, I also totally crushed on Malfoy. In the movies not the books duh. Tom Felton is everything

150603105711-harry-potter-draco-then-now-super-169total cutie when we were young, and total fox now

But I could be a Slytherin and still totally be with Harry. We would totally be star-crossed lovers. Like Romeo and Juliet with a happy ending. Or no happy ending I don’t give a shit. All I’m saying, that I, even as a Slytherin, am a WAY better match than that fucking Ginny Weasley. Like fuck that trick.

Anyway, as you can see, I’ve put a lot of thought into why I am a Slytherin. But then again… could just be because green looks better on me. Actually, knowing me, the decision was definitely fashion based. Military jackets here I come!

*starting with the 5th book (at the bookstore below the across from the food court before they redid Century City, remember that?!). After all, I was only like 7 when the 4th was released and even my mom wouldn’t have made that big of a compromise on bedtime at that age.

**Both true stories. When I was finishing the final book, my parents were in the backyard with visiting family just talking so I got as far away and secluded as possible. Keep in mind, this was the quiet side of the family–the Resnikoffs, had the other side been over, I’d probably have had to get myself to another zip code for the peace and quiet I’d need.

***Mixed feelings on the Hollywood version opening. A) How big will it be and B) RIP Gibson Amphitheater whyyyyyyyy

† Although identifying as Slytherin would have probably been edgier and more unique. Fuck, maybe I would have gotten in early!

A Love Letter to Gwyneth Paltrow: there’s a fine line between love and hate

It’s hard to define Crying in Ubers. Maybe you consider it a comedy blog, maybe you think it’s just some psycho rambling every like 6 months or whatever, but most likely do you don’t even think of it at all. Well, I’d like to think of it as a lifestyle website. So why not mark my triumphant return (sorry I’ve been MIA but literally anxiety stops me from posting literally every time I consider opening my laptop) than with an ode to THE Lifestyle Guru of our generation. No, not Martha, although she was beyooooond hilarious at the Justin Bieber Roast. No, not Oprah. I’m talking Goopy herself, Miss Gwyneth Paltrow.

Look, I get it. It’s a fine line between love and hate. A few months ago I could go on a rant about her on the spot, never mind being unable to suppress an eye roll at every talk show appearance and pull quote posted all over the internet. I was right there with y’all buying a ticket to see Contagion just to watch her die. But now I’m Team Goop all the way.*

Sure, she seems pretentious and unlikable and completely ungrounded in reality. And that fuels the haters. But one morning I woke up and realized, that’s exactly what makes her so great. Don’t we all aspire to be so rich and fabulous and cultured that we can look down on literally all of America? Well, I do. So I’m appointing her my official (and therefore this site’s) life coach.

Why is she officially America’s most hated celeb? I mean she’s bffs with Jay Z and Beyoncè…that used to be enough to give anyone street cred. And don’t stone me here but is she really that different from the CHOSEN couple? Bey poured a bottle of Ace of Spades into a hot tub, and even if it wasn’t really full of champagne, is that really any worse than endorsing a $5,000 juicer or a hangover cure that involves racing between a hot bath and freezing shower?

She can’t connect with “regular” people


I remember a lot of the hating starting when she released her cookbook, My father’s daughter. People were enraged that her recipes called for a wogwynnod burning pizza oven. Even she admitted it was a luxury. And I’m sorry you know when you’re buying a book by Gwyneth Paltrow it’s not Sonja’s microwave cookbook. Like take a fucking chill pill America. Yeah, it does sound like a great investment. And if I ate carbs fuck yes i’d get one too. She fucking owns who she is. If you’re going on Goop, don’t expect to find best buys from Old Navy. That’s not what Goop is. And that’s not what it’s pretending to be. People freaked out because it cost a little over $100K to buy everything on the Goop 2014 Gift Guide. If you look at a gift guide and buy everything then it’s you’re own business buddy. Maybe that’s the upside to having no friends like me, I don’t have to buy all those gifts. Whatever fuck the haters she has great suggestions. Honestly, it would be a crime to not reccommend the Hermès Avalon Blanket when you have the platform to do so. Because as Gwen says, If only we could buy these in bulk. She can’t pretend to be poor but she tries to understand the plight. She took the food stamp challenge. I mean she failed, but she lasted 4 days. Yet, where’s her award and praise? NO FUCKING WHERE. How dare you people not recognize her acheivement.

Food snobbery in general

Goopy once told my current boss, “I would rather die than let my kids eat Cup-a-Soup.” So fine she’s a drama queen. She’s an actress! But it’s not like my mom let me eat it. Honestly until this very moment I had no idea what it was. I thought she was talking about like Top Ramen. After seeing what it really is I don’t think we can really fault her. More recently, Queen G got a collective side-eye from everyone for this fun lil tidbit: “I would rather smoke crack than eat cheese from a tin.” Once again, I have absolutely no idea what cheese from a tin is. It sounds disgusting. But I’m not sure I’m ready to give her a complete pass here. Crack? Really? Crack? I get that she’s trying to go as lowbrow as possible here but as much as I love a good exaggeration I think crack is just too far. Come on, Gwyny….couldn’t you have just switched out one letter and said crank? Crystal Meth is just as disgusting and povo. I mean, in the immortal words of Whitney Houston: “Crack is cheap. [You] make too much money to ever smoke crack. Crack is whack!” I get that it’s a subtle nod to it but come on, even in hyperbole you can’t stoop that low Gwyneth. Say that you’d rather smoke crystal. And not any of that primo Walter White blue shit. I mean if you had said I’d rather smoke bottom barrel crystal than eat cheese from a tin, I’d be with you girl but you didn’t and I’ll always have Whitney’s words ringing in my ears.

Vagina Steams

Look, Shailene Woodley told everyone to sun their bag’s and it was the stupidest thing ever. No way no chance I’ll ever be team Shay. But if Gwyneth wants to pay $200 for a vag steam I say you go girl. I don’t care how many doctors are saying it’s BS, I’m all for it. You go naked into a steam room, it’s basically the same deal. And not to get too far into this reporter’s personal life but gosh be darned if a friend and I didn’t let keep our legs tightly crossed in the steam room at the Beverly Wilshire a couple weeks ago.

Workout Routines

Why are people getting their panties in a bunch over how much Gwyneth spends on Tracy Anderson. I’m not gonna get on any high horse spending $30 for less than an hour of Soul Cycle. It takes a lot of work to be the World’s Most Beautiful Woman. So I say you go girl. You fucking go.

Conscious Uncoupling

Look, she came up with a term and people called pretentious. I call it a headline for a lifestyle magazine. Cosmo has had way worse euphemisms. Plus it provided ammo for the most wonderful, delicious, and passive aggressive lifestyle guru feud of all time. Jailbird Cake anyone? Now let’s talk post uncoupling. Chris Martin went straight from America’s most hated to most loved, Jennifer LawrenceSome say overcorrection. But what if that’s not the case? What if they’re just way more alike than we think? Maybe I’m praising Gwen, maybe I’m demonizing Jen, but regardless it’s a real thinker.


Look, I know Gwyny thinks it’s sexist to compare her to Blake Lively and Reese Witherspoon, but and whatever the hell Reese is calling her site ain’t got nothing on GOOP. Crying in Ubers? Well, we’ll just have to find out won’t we?

Take the quiz: How Gwyneth Paltrow are you? I’m only a little bit of Gwyneth but I’m working on it. Let me know what you scored. The higher the better, because Goopy is God.

*A note on the line between love and hate: Is it just me, a previously hardcore devoted Hathahater (despite wanting to like her so badly due to our alleged physical resemblance), but did Anne Hathaway come off as likable when she slayed on Lip Sync Battle?

Keeping Up With Jesus


Ahh Easter, my favorite holiday. Yes, in the past 5 years, this jew has been to church on Easter 4 times, and temple…well let’s just say not that many times. And while I had to miss out on my baskets of candy and toys this year, the Easter Bunny did bring a present in the form of another edition of The Kardashians Doing Nothing Is News! Yes the Kardashian-Jenner-West-I don’t give a fuck outing to church is plastered all over the internet, and it’s all about the fashion. Duh 

While the range is clearly Klassic and Appropriate Kourtney to Kompletely Inappropriate Kendall, let’s start with some middle ground.


The Kardashian-Wests. For someone who’s lately completely naked, completely covered, or some weird combination of the two, Kimmy seems very appropriate. I don’t know what the policy on shoulders is in non-Catholic church but regardless…. well done Kim. Kanye… Kanye even allowed in a church? I mean, Yeezus (I know he semi-explained that one), I Am A God, plus this little cover? Isn’t the second commandment all about having no other Gods and not worshipping false idols? I’m just saying, like everyone steals and cheats and disobeys their parents sometimes, but those are pretty big ones to fuck with. Yeezus’ ripped t-shirt and jeans seem a little inappropriate but look what else he’s getting away with….if I were him I wouldn’t be respectful towards God either. As for North, it seems like her dress is not as crisp a white as Mommy and Daddy’s outfits and I have to say I really expected better.


Before I get to Miss Kendall, let’s just see if there’s anything else we need to discuss. Kourt clearly didn’t care about the white memo and I love it. She looks wonderful. And thankfully they didn’t drag resident Jew Scott to church, although it really is a shame because I’d have loved to see him in a nice seersucker suit. Kris looks unusually appropriate. And I don’t even know where all these other men are coming from but apparently one is Kris’ bf and one is Kylie‘s even though they’re about the same age. (Yes, the one with the kid is 17 year-old Kylie’s man). Khloe‘s outfit is wayyyy to tight, which given the amount of weight she’s lost recently means she went out and got a whole new wardrobe that’s 2 sizes too small for her at her thinnest.


Kendall Kendall Kendall.

Don’t get me wrong, I love this outfit. Like love. It’s everything. The problem is not the wear it’s the where. I know as a model she has a responsibility to be fashion forward but there’s a more appropriate way. This isn’t just midriff, there’s belly button showing! I mean if Taylor Swift wouldn’t wear it, it’s probably not church appropriate. And while anywhere else I’d see that as a chic halter, on the holiest day of the year I see it as a boob strap. Come on you can do better! You would have been better off with a Jesus is my Homeboy T-shirt. I was going to do a list of the only 5 things less appropriate than Kendall’s outfit or 5 things surprisingly more appropriate for Easter services than Kendall’s outfit but that seems like a lot of work to make fun of an outfit I really like. But as a wise man* once said, You don’t respect my religion? I don’t respect your outfit.


*Scott Disick