Celeb Cheat-Bombs

Photo hijacked from The Hollywood Gossip

By now, you’ve probably heard the news, and if not I’d love to be the one to break it to you: Kristen Stewart cheated on her boyfriend of forever, Robert Pattinson.

Like most of you, I didn’t think Kristen Stewart could do anything to make me like her less. She claims to never try (great things just happen to her), she’s dating a hot, British vampire, and she’s super skinny (even though I bet she eats a cheeseburger  at least once a week). But no. That wasn’t good enough for you, was it K-Stew? You had to go and make out with the director of that fairy time movie you were in, even though he’s married to the woman who played your mom in the movie. We get it. WE. GET. IT.

As I ferociously rolled my eyes over the news, Internet reminded me that celebrities frequently make such mistakes (Internet reminds me of so many good things). Some website creepily called Sodahead even created a fun and convenient slideshow of celebrities who famously cheated on their significant others. Let’s take a trip down memory lane and relive some of recent history’s favorite celeb cheat-bombs:

1. Tiger Woods: Cheats on his hot Swedish wife with 1,000 bar wenches. She busts his car window with a golf-club, like a boss.

2. Jesse James: Cheats on Miss Congeniality with some rando, then gets with Kat von D (which makes much more sense) then cheats on her with like 73 Chili’s hostesses.

3. Arnold Schwarzenegger: It’s revealed that Ah-nold cheated  on his gaunt Kennedy wife many, many years ago…with the help…and has a”love child” …who is the same age as his “marriage child.” JACKPOT.

4. Hugh Grant: Busted cheating on his model boo Elizabeth Hurley with a prostitute. But raise your hand if you still love him. Exactly.

5. LeAnn Rimes: Cheats on her husband, some dude I’ve never heard of, with some other dude I’ve never heard of. Then she marries dude #2, and that should work out just fine.

6. Ethan Hawke: Cheats on 7 foot wife Uma Thurman with the nanny, whom he then married. Someone was getting overtime, okaaaaaaay!

7. Jude Law: Cheats on then-fiancee, the super cute and young Sienna Miller, with his kid’s nanny. This all makes me want to either a) never hire a babysitter or b) get back on SitterCity and see where the wind takes me.

After talking with Internet, it seems that Kristen Stewart isn’t the absolute worst. At least she’s only “made out” with one guy so far. And the man, 41-year-old Rupert Sanders, has a wife and kids, so he’s much more in the wrong than the 22-year-old frowny-B.

Kristen. If you’re out there, I have no advice for you. I’ve never cheated or been cheated on, and I’ve never been famous and/or a vampire. But I can guarantee that if you wait it out, say a week or so, something more interesting will happen. Justin Bieber will rob a Home Depot. Rihanna will start dating a dog. Who knows? At that point, we will all forget whatever it was that I was talking about five minutes ago, and we’ll dislike you at the same level we did on July 24.


Emoji 101

A few weeks ago my friend Carolyn introduced me to a new nugget of technological gold. I’d seen the effects of this new development, but I had no idea that Simple Old Me had access to such a high tech treasure.

There is a new language, according to the iPhone, and it’s called Emoji. At first I thought I’d mis-heard and that the language was Umoja (the Swahili word for unity, Kwanzaa principle, and black student group at my alma mater). I was saddened to find that the language was actually called Emoji and had nothing to do with my heritage. But my spirits were lifted when I learned that Emoji equals silly pictures for texting!

Emoji, much like sign language, does not involve actual speaking, but rather symbols. Unlike sign language, it does not involve face-to-face contact, which makes it much better. I like Emoji, because it can be cute yet provocative at the same time. Nonsensical and edgy. Fun and offensive. Of-fun-sive.

Here are a few symbols and some examples of how they might be used:

“The rain is coming, and my suede shorts will be ruined.”

“Somebody farted? Wasn’t me…”

“Guess where I am right now!”

“I just set your house on fire.”

“I’m directly to your left. No my left. Wait. Yours. I am not going to say your name to get your attention. I’m going to use this finger Emoji. This is going to take forever.”

“Hey, twin sister! Do you want to practice our leotard-ed tap dance routine later?”

“No. Stop texting me, twin sister.”

This is just a picture of a gun. I have no idea why this is even allowed.

“Honey, I think Mark is gay.”

“The baby keeps walking through the blood.”

“I’m in the hospital, but I’m in good spirits…still, though, I’m in the hospital…”

“I’ve been craving eggplant all week.”

“I know we just met last night, and I don’t feel confident enough to call you, but do you want to get married?”

Emoji should be used with discretion. I cannot stress this enough. Don’t be surprised if your seemingly innocent text leads to divorce, workplace diversity training, or even jail time. Now that I’ve shared this knowledge with you, pass it along as you see fit, because, you know

You Can’t Handle the Tooth

Liar! It is not that much fun.

This is a cautionary tale for all you kids out there who think you’re too cool to go to the dentist. I used to be just like you, recklessly eating dried fruit and gnawing popcorn kernels. On the surface my pearly whites looked both pearly and white. But there was a problem lurking, and last Monday, it surfaced.

I was watching The Art of Rap with my friend Heather, when I felt something crack inside my mouth. I don’t normally feel anything crack inside my mouth, so I was concerned. Something was floating around. I spit into my hand. Just as I’d thought, it was a chunk o’ tooth.

I calmly walked out of the theater and into the bathroom, where I examined my mouth. I’d chipped off about a quarter of my molar. Rats! Not quite knowing what to do, I wrapped the tooth in toilet paper. Then, I lost the toilet paper. Then I found out that I’d missed the part of the movie with Salt from Salt ‘n’ Peppa. It was the worst night.

Now, I must admit that I hadn’t been to the dentist in a very long time at that point. Years, in fact. I don’t know what happened. I’d been so regular in high school and even during college. But after I got my wisdom teeth pulled, it was like I grew up. Life got in the way. I had no time for basic mouth maintenance anymore.

So, last Wednesday, I found myself in a dentist’s office for the first time since the Bush administration. I wasn’t interested in messing around, so after he did an X-ray and exam and told me I had a deep cavity and needed a temporary filling, I told him to go for it. I laid back in the chair and watched him pull out various weapons. He gave me a shot of Novacaine on the inside of my cheek, which hurt and made me kick my feet like a baby. Then, he put a tube in my mouth that kept sucking and grabbing onto the inside of my cheek. It was foul and made my mouth dry. He poked and prodded around, while I tried not to cry. I didn’t do a very good job. I moaned like an orca whale, while continuing to kick my feet. Like a baby. The tools he used were the type I’d imagined were used in wood shop (I chose the family and consumer sciences elective that year, obviously). They made buzzing noises and spun in circles. It felt like there was a miniature construction worker drilling a hole into my tooth.

“Give me the epidural!” I wanted to shout. But I couldn’t, what with the sucky tube, and the jack hammer, and all. But the dentist could tell I wasn’t quite comfortable, and he gave me another shot of the good stuff.

Pretty soon, the right side of my face was totally numb, and I could barely feel what was going on. It was great. By the end of the whole ordeal, I had what looked like a brand new tooth and no money. I also got to go about the rest of my day with a half numb face, which made eating and expressing emotion completely impossible.

I have to go back for a check up next Wednesday, and eventually I’ll have to get a crown. I’m fine with that, because crown is a baller term, and I appreciate the level of royalty it suggests.

So children, heed my warning. If you keep up your twice yearly dental checkups, you will likely avoid such a traumatic experience. You won’t have to endure silver knifies in your mouth, and you’ll get to see The Art of Rap in its entirety, without missing Salt.