Saturday, May 06, 2017

Better Dead Than Read

I don't know if you've heard, but dead-eyed-daughter-of-famous-retard Joanie Clownstick has a "book" out. Proving that she has learned at the feet (or, well, the lap) of Dear Old Dud, Joanie has cobbled together a pastiche of poached, decontextualized sentiments from other people, poured a corn syrup of tone-deaf self-help bromides all over it, baked for a lifetime of privileged cluelessness, and served as her own dish.

I'm not sure what's worse, the soulless branding machine that churns out this sort of page poop, or the brainless asshole who actually shells out money for it, who see Joanie as something other than what she really is, like they somehow see her old man as something other than what he really is. It's not like this family of boutique grifters has ever been shy about humping 'murka's collective leg like a horny shar-pei violating a hapless couch pillow. Whatever. You can see from the Amazon page that while the "book" has a majority of poor reviews, it is still moving quite well. There will always be someone stupid enough to spend good money on the borrowed musings of a spoiled dunce, if only out of sheer spite.

Just for the fun of it, enjoy the hate reviews from Slate and Atlantic, and remember -- this overrated organism has more money and power than you will ever see in your lifetime, and accumulates more of it every second. She's one of those people who never has to acknowledge how fucking awful they really are, and has the goddamned nerve on top of it all to cloak it in this insufferable pose of "helping" other women. You have to credit these people -- the grift just never slows down.

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