It’s my birthday. *confetti*
As such, I planned to write an inspiring and heartfelt post about what I’ve learned in all my years of living and loving and traveling. It was going to be wonderful. You’d laugh, you’d cry, you’d beg for it to become a Ted Talk.
Unfortunately, every time I plop down in front of my screen to get started, Kim Kardashian’s formidable rear end pops into my news feed and derails my train of thought.
A little about me… Even though my career and lifestyle dictates that I live on the Internet most of the day, I do everything I can to avoid the Kardashian social media circus. I don’t follow any of them on Instagram or Twitter. I don’t have cable. I don’t click on stories about what they wore or whom they’re sleeping with or what shenanigans they’re up to this week. I’m not interested in their squabbles, bank balances, weddings, divorces, video games or sex tapes. Nor do I care to hear their affected speech patterns (how many times can you say literally in one sentence?!), or share in their overblown first world problems. Their brand doesn’t represent anything I value… except maybe Junk-in-the-Trunk Acceptance. (A cause near and dear to my heart.)
Needless to say, up until this week, I’ve been pretty good at not keeping up with the Kardashians.
Yet here we are on my birthday, usually a very special time for me on the Internet because I get to reconnect with friends from around the world. I look forward to this day so much because it reminds me just how many wonderful, authentic, kind and generous people I’ve met in my travels. This year, my Facebook joy has been tempered as every sweet electronic birthday wish is sandwiched in between photos of Kim’s unsolicited, shining butt cheeks.
Actually, let’s back that thang up for a sec. The Gift of Kim’s Lustrous Butt first arrived on my birthday eve, with the suggestion we “break the internet” in anticipation of the release of the remaining photos from the Paper Magazine spread.
I am literally on board with breaking the Internet if unrequested, greased-up a$$ is where this thing is going.
It only got worse today as more photos from the shoot were revealed. It wasn’t enough to see the famed buttocks in their gleaming, Crisco-soaked glory. Kim decided that not enough people in the world had seen her entire body naked, so she went full frontal. Happy birthday to me!
It’s actually really thoughtful if you think about it. Perhaps you inadvertently missed her sex tape(s), didn’t get around to looking at her Playboy pictorials, somehow forgot to check out her W magazine nakie fest, etc. If so, then this Internet takeover is for you. And for me, apparently, because I’d gone almost 33 years without seeing an unclothed Kardashian.
To research the details of this attempt at destroying the Internet (and the fabric of society?), I had to look up the original article complete with all the uncensored pics of Kim in her birthday suit, so here I sit in Starbucks (not in my birthday suit, in case you were wondering) looking like either a perv or a Kardashian fan. It’s hard to say which is worse.
(It’s also worth noting that I plugged in my headphones with the intention of jamming to the Queen station on Pandora. First song in the rotation? Fat Bottomed Girls. You can’t make this stuff up.)
Paper’s editorial director told Yahoo Style,
“Kim’s attitude was ‘if we’re gonna do it, let’s really go there,'” Boardman said. “And it was her idea to take off her clothes and show more than her butt. But we didn’t say ‘let’s do a cover with your butt hanging out.’ She said she was willing to take her clothes off and one thing lead to another.”
Kim said she was willing to take her clothes off, did she? I think the odds of that happening are good when there’s a camera present…
Can you hear that sound? It’s civilization crashing down around us. It’s all the teenage Kardashian fangirls in the world learning that the best way to get attention is to shine up that ba-donka-donk, take an “iconic” picture and slap it on the Internet with gusto. It’s so destructive and I’m super mad about it!
But that’s not what I want to talk about. If I’ve learned anything from my limited interactions with the Kardashians, it’s that somehow I need to make this all about me. So let’s not forget the real tragedy here — how the Shining Orb that is Kim’s shellacked arse has interrupted my attempt at writing something inspiring and magical on my birthday.
Maybe Kim has done us all a favor, actually. The Oiled Up Rump of a Beverly Hills Princess has saved you from reading a feel-good Angie Away birthday post. I think we all know you prefer my rants anyway.
I’m turning off the Internet for the rest of the day. Kim may not have broken it with her gratuitous greasy goody flashing, but she’s definitely forced her way into my news feed and I’d rather do something else with what’s left of my special day.
