I Am Woman, I Am Bored: Nikki Finke Thinks Beautiful Women Aren't Funn--zzzzzzzzzzzzz...
God, I’m so bored with this shit I can feel my skin crawling off of my body, desperate to seek shelter on the bones of some manner of creature who doesn’t have to hear bullshit “women are ____” or “aren’t ____” every six months or year. Perhaps an anteater, or a nice soft-shelled turtle. Look at these fuckers. They don’t browse the internet. They just…turtle.
The best thing about turtles is they are not forced to care about stuff like this. Which is enviable. Because I am just so tired. Not even in an exasperated, hand-wringing way. In the eye-rolling, is-it-in-yet, sitting-through-a-corporate-training-video-that-doesn’t-even-have-fun-dated-hairstyles, I-have-to-pick-something-on-this-Olive-Garden-menu, grandma-said-something-racist-but-she’s-old-so-why-bother-caring kind of way.
At this point in time, if you want to offend me by saying something stupid/offensive/ignorant about women, you’re just going to have to step up your game. Talk to the GOP. Those guys know what they’re doing. But the “funny” thing rings about as hollow as any episode of “Family Guy.” “Women aren’t funny. Aren’t I controversial and interesting? Don’t you just hate me?” Just, whatever. I DON’T CARE.
“Listen-up, Hollywood: Beautiful actresses are not funny. They don’t know how to do comedy. (As Bowen demonstrated with her acceptance speech that repeated the phrase ‘nipple covers’ 3 dozen times. To zero laughter.) Only women who grew up ugly and stayed ugly, or through plastic surgery became beautiful, can pull off sitcoms or standups. Bowen isn’t a comedienne just like Brooke Shields wasn’t and a zillion more. Because it’s all about emotional pain and humiliation and rising above both by making people laugh with you instead of at you. So stop casting beautiful actresses when you should be giving ugly women a chance. (Tina Fey always points out she looked like a troglodyte when she was younger.) This also applies to handsome men, by the way. Now argue amongst yourselves.”
It should be noted that her very next sentence was, “You know what I said above? Well [Steve] Levitan is the exception.” So do with that what you will.
People keep trying to make this “women aren’t funny” thing happen, and, like fetch, it’s just not. And every time they try, people get all rabble, rabble, rabble up in arms, and I feel like I’m supposed to be feigning some soapboxy offense at this, but I can’t get it up to do it anymore. Women aren’t funny. Women are sluts. Women have magic vagina parts that kill rape babies. I mean, it’s exhausting having to care this much all the time. And it’s made so much more so by then attempting to care about stuff everyone else in the world knows is wrong and stupid and wrong and dumb and wrong. I could post a whole long SRL right now listing every funny woman with a sweet-ass rack, but I don’t need to, because DUH. And I never say duh. I didn’t say duh when duh was a thing. But sometimes there is only DUH. Because DUH. I don’t need to tell you that hot chicks can be funny. I don’t need to tell you that generalizing is wrong. I don’t need to tell you that Nikki Finke is the armpit of the ass goiter on the taint of a rabid earwig’s ingrown pubic hair because DUH.
Why are we still having this conversation? Why do people still feel compelled to say things like “pretty women aren’t funny” and “hot girls can’t be geeks” and “Emmy winner Jon Cryer” as though they’re not completely ridiculous things to say? Yes, like a couple hundred people out there believe them. BUT THOSE PEOPLE ARE FUCKING MORONS. Why do we care about those people? We shouldn’t. Unless you are actually pondering merging your genitals with the genitals of a person who believes such stupid things, then stop caring. And, if you’re the kind of person pondering nether-mergers with people like that, then chances are, you’re stupid, too, in which case, congratulations on finding one another and please drink one of the substances under your sink which may cause infertility. I just don’t care. I can’t care. There is no more care.
Some pretty women are funny. Some ugly women are funny. Most women are not funny. Most men are not funny. Most people are not funny. All people have some kind of sadness, horror or humiliation in their respective pasts and to imply that people who do are somehow funny is idiotic because some of those people are serial killers or write YouTube comments. And to imply that pretty people don’t have those things is a laughably grade schoolian viewpoint that can only be had by a pathetic shitbag of a human being. Which, by the way, is something woman are also totally capable of being. Hooray for breaking the glass ceilings of being a total canker sore, Nickels! And, atop everything else on this mountain peak of dumbfuck, there’s the forced cannibalistic soccer team of DUH that is that beauty and funny are so specifically subjective. I think Chelsea Handler is about as funny as a curb stomped puppy, but that doesn’t mean that people who find her funny are wrong; it just means that I’m…something. I don’t know. Right, I guess? I DON’T KNOW. I’m delirious with “fuck this shit; I want a snow cone.”
There are a few funny people in the whole world. And if a few of them happen to be women, and a few of those women happen to be moderately attractive, then so fucking be it. I DON’T CARE.
Each Time You Like, Share, Tweet or Stumble a Pajiba Post, An Angel Does the Paul Rudd Dance
blog comments powered by Disqus