Good morning bitches! Let’s stumble right on into one of my favorite sections of GMB, shall we?
niche facebook group of the week:
We’ve already got Dolly Parton on the brain so let me introduce you to the most brilliant clash of my two loves in life:
(Now, I pray that I don’t have to explain who/what Jolene is, but I will spare you the embarrassment of having to google one of the most iconic songs of all time—a hussy named Jolene was trying to seduce Dolly’s man and Dolly was havin NONE OF IT). Thus, this group is devoted exclusively to photos of peoples’ cats favoring their boyfriends/husbands more than themselves.
article that will make you very happy you live alone:
Oh. My. God. You’ll notice that this story from The Cut is from February, but I have not stopped thinking about it months later and need the world to hear this absolute RIDE of a tale. Essentially, a New Yorker who had lived in her house for years decided to take in a roommate to help with the mortgage. Here’s some highlights about the worst roommate/human to ever exist:
showed up with a surprise dog when she moved in
first $2k rent check was 6 days late
literally never paid rent again
purposefully avoided conflict until the 30-day tenancy law kicked in
took over the entire living room as her own personal space
started spraying lysol directly in landlord’s face and claiming she was being poisoned
lied in court about everything under the sun
demanded the landlord pay HER $24k to leave
This all started in early 2020, and the roommate is still there. Between the lawsuits, the mortgage, and NYC’s tenant laws, it is fully possible that the landlord will lose her house before the roommate is ever forced to leave. (This woman is so horrifying that she makes me miss my roommate who wouldn’t let me turn the AC on in 90 degree heat while I was in a neck brace.)
a must-stream and a probably-should-skip:
I am coming at you live from the comfort of my reclining couch as I ask myself the question some of you may have pondered while scrolling Netflix:
Should I watch Master of None season 3?
For those who don’t have group chats debating this topic, let me give you a refresher. Master of None co-creator and star Aziz Ansari had his #MeToo moment back in 2017 when the infamously anonymous “Grace” shared her first date experience with the comedian with the now-shuttered website, Babe.net.
This was debatably the most shades-of-grey celebrity story in the #MeToo movement. (Even my friend group formerly known as Aziz’s Bitches still struggle to decide if we’re cool with him or not.) I’m not here to tell you one way or the other, I’m just here to throw down my thoughts on the five episodes I just binge watched while writing this.
Don’t expect the shenanigans and hilariously cringey moments of Season 1 fame. Brace yourself for slow-moving television, 4x3 aspect ratio, and purposefully long static shots ~for effect~. You’ll see the demise of a marriage—but won’t have known the characters long enough to care. You’ll get a glimpse into the harsh financial realities that queer women face at fertility clinics—but never actually see the character struggle to pay. If they cut down all the 12-second shots of empty rooms, maybe they would have had room to actually develop! the! plot!
You’ll only see Aziz himself a few times, buuuut even before the Grace article, we kind of knew this was coming:
“I don't have anything else to say about being a young guy being single in New York eating food around town all the time.”
(Thank God, because we really don’t need any more masturbatory, loosely autobiographic variations of Seinfeld/Louie/Mulaney/Crashing.) Perhaps he stayed true to his word, perhaps he wanted to avoid the inevitable thinkpieces pondering #cancelculture, or perhaps he stepped away from the spotlight to mirror his own career over the past 3 years, but whatever your hypothesis is….take either comfort or umbrage knowing you’ll barely see him throughout the five episodes.
In this world of endless entertainment options, I can comfortably tell you to skip this one.
BUT YOU BETTER NOT SKIP THIS ONE:
A brief synopsis: burned out detective Mare Sheehan (Kate Winslet) is drudging through personal and professional hell—her ex-husband is getting remarried, her teen daughter oozes angst, her son is dead, her grandson's mother is trying to regain custody, and the disappearance of her friend's daughter is still unsolved one year later. This show has LAYERS. Throughout the first episode you might be confused why we are being introduced to so many seemingly unrelated characters, but oh BABY are they related!!!
I don’t say this lightly—this is genuinely some of the best television I have ever watched. The last three episodes are a masterclass in murder mystery writing, and just when you think you have the killer figured out, there’s another surfaced clue that makes you question everything. Grief is a major theme throughout the show and I love that they hired a grief consultant when crafting the storylines. The moments of grief were simultaneously so beautiful and ugly and heartbreaking and heartwarming—just like grief in real life. (Also, it is worth noting that British sweetheart Kate Winslet's performance is so good you’ll forget she's not native to working class Pennsylvania.)
The show just ended on Sunday, so feel free to binge and pretend like you were watching all along.
Don’t believe my hype?
*remote drop*
the only “so how did you two meet?” story worth mentioning:
Some people tried to claim that cookie dough was a euphemism for drugs but fear not, my wholesome audience:
Also, happy pride :)
Barbara Jean update:
Longtime good morning bitches know that the unofficial mascot of this newsletter is my 14-year-old shih tzu, Barbara Jean. (Today’s her birthday by the way!!! #hbdBJ) Her most shining moment in this role was when I devoted like, half an edition to her saga involving a hunk of cheese, an easily accessible countertop, and a crumb-covered AirPod.
She is the LIGHT OF MY LIFE, so you can understand why I panicked in March when an emergency vet told me I needed to seriously consider putting her down because of a baseball-sized tumor in her stomach. I started gathering photos for an RIP tribute post, I shared an instagram story about her illness, and I even contacted a pet cemetery to buy a teeny tiny coffin. To make a long, expensive story short—Barb is…….fine. You wanna know why??????
That tumor?? It was a HAIRBALL. A five inch hairball.
You might be thinking, “wow, I had no idea shih tzus shed that much!” Oh, they don’t!! But you know what does?
Fluffy white rugs.
Yes, Barbara Jean’s baseball sized tumor was a clump of rug stuck in her stomach since November.
The good news: she’s not dying
The bad news: I spent $250 on a rug that caused a $3,500 hairball
just a joke for the evangelical bitches out there:
this week on twitter:
Sadly I’m very near the email length limit so I can only include one gem, but I’ll overcompensate in a mini bitch soon ok? <3 In the meantime, enjoy this perfect image.
Until next time (when I’ll have a special announcement!!!),
xo,
lily
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good morning bitches // 6.2.2021
I had no idea dogs could get hairballs. Thank goodness she's OK!
I am so happy to hear that BJ is going to be ok. Happy birthday Barbara Jean❤❤