I’m 33. I’m single. I live alone. I work remotely. And I’m not on the dating apps.
I’m not on the dating apps because I thought I would make my grand debut on Hinge with my 6 stunning photos and witty one-liner prompts and hot men would be falling all over themselves to message me, wondering how exactly such a catch is single. I’ve given Hinge three honest attempts now over the course of the last two years. Spoiler alert: that fantasy of cleaning up the moment I crack open the app never once came true. Instead, I was met with the creaturiest of creatures. Creaturiest isn’t even an adjective and yet I’ve made it one because there’s no other word that can adequately paint the picture of what lies in wait in online dating in the Central Jersey Shore region, age range 30-35. During my last dance with Hinge this past May, I got into a literal war of words with one candidate who couldn’t stop alternating between asking how my week was going or how my weekend was on repeat. At first, I was spitting my A game in sarcasm and hilarious convo starters…giving it the ole college try that this chump might loosen up and start to hold his own in the conversation. By week 2, I realized he only had one move and it was saying the week was crazy and asking how it went for me. And because I’m immature and think everything is fodder for a bit, I then got into a “how’s your week going-off” with this unsuspecting character. I was bloodthirsty for a battle of who could volley it back without actually saying anything of substance more and I wasn’t backing down. I wanted to win. It was clear we were stuck in a TGIF tornado and I wanted to be the last one standing in the eye of the storm. Unfortunately, I’m pretty confident I was talking to an actual robot and finally had to admit defeat. It was like IM’ing with Smarterchild. (s/o to my fellow millennial late-night AIM whores…idk how we can justify chatting with a bot, but I guess it was cool for that time.) Out of all of my fails on Hinge, giving up the “how was your week bit” and letting “Michael” win was my BIGGEST F. Here’s a snippet of ole Pete and Repeat’s robot moves, plus a lil bonus of what someone sent to me after just viewing my profile one time. He wanted to wear my skin to his birthday, obviously.
As you might be able to gather from that glimpse into sheer insanity, being on a dating app and genuinely thinking I’d find a husband from it was not doing great things for my mental health. I was obsessed with checking the app multiple times a day and was disappointed every time I did. I was coming from a place of desperation and the options at my fingertips were grim as hell and all of that made the perfect storm of plummeting my self-confidence and general hopefulness that I’ll ever snag a mans. I’ve come to learn that no one wants to be on that app and therefore has a real negative “this is a last resort” attitude from the jump. Also, men are TRASH at marketing themselves. It’s really not that hard to post some good pictures and be normal answering questions. Seeing the brown trout that I was reeling in on that app was genuinely making me feel like lake scum. I know I’m funny (you do too since you’re reading this right now.) I know I photograph well…or at least I hope so because otherwise the world is being absolutely PUNISHED by how many photos of myself I post on a regular basis. But you would think I’m Ursula with the responses I was getting. So taking all of that into account, I deleted Hinge and said I can find other ways to hurt my own feelings.
So that brings us to present day, where I’m very much not looking to be a lonely old spinster and would LOVE to find a partner, but I’m not subscribing to basically the ONLY method for dating in the year of our Lord 2024. The peanut gallery has told me that deleting the apps means I won’t meet anyone because apparently NO ONE EVER DATED OR GOT MARRIED BEFORE 2013. In my most recent therapy sesh, she urged me to think outside the box of other ways I could put myself out there and meet someone without re-dipping my toe into the cesspool of Hinge. And let me be clear, if you’re itching to make a suggestion and your suggestion includes any of the following cliches that make me want to hurl my body off of a cliff, pls refrain.
You’ll meet someone when you’re not even looking.
It’ll happen when you least expect it.
Trust the timing of your life.
Everyone has their own path.
Enjoy being single and do what you love and you’ll attract the right guy.
Don’t settle.
Don’t compare yourself to others.
Be open to new experiences.
Obviously, everything about my lifestyle is isolating and knowing that, I’ve always made an effort to get out and do things even if it means doing it alone so that I can meet people, connect, and socialize. It’s not always easy…in fact it’s usually pretty difficult to constantly be doing stuff alone when I’d rather be enjoying it with someone. But I’m not going to hide from life just because no one wants to date me, SO SUCK ON THAT. While many of my interests and activities lean more towards the girly groups (craft nights, biking, flower fields, reading Reese Witherspoon Book Club picks, etc.) I figured just existing outside of my home is upping my chances. I’ve tried to work from coffee shops, attend a group exercise class, hang at dog parks, go to the beach, and check out breweries by myself or with the dog. Realistically, my homegirl Charlee should be pulling in mad booty. She’s super cute and friendly as hell. And yet not one time has anyone under the age of 55 ever struck up a conversation with us in public. My dog park group is 85% retirees. On the rare occasion a male in his twenties to thirties shows up at the dog park, I often have to ask myself is this man actually attractive or is he just the only man here that isn’t wearing compression socks.
I even went so far as to taking myself out to dinner on a Saturday night this past summer because I figured no one else is wining and dining me so why not do it for myself. I biked to the local seafood joint, brought my own wine, clammed it up, and read my lil thriller. It was nice to get a change of scenery but I assure you I was surrounded by families all wondering if this was a choice or I got stood up. Since it was beautiful out and good food, the vibes were high and I was able to romanticize the shit out of this sad circumstance and act like I was the main character of an Elin Hilderbrand beach read and not like I couldn’t get a soul to buy me a crabcake.
Now the weather is getting chillier and we’re heading into my favorite seasonal depresh months where it’s dark all the time and the wind is always whipping. GR8! This is when I really need to force myself to go do things. And, of course, always conscious of saving money and not overspending, I’ve got to limit my excursions to live within my means. That’s why when half price sushi night came back at a local restaurant, I immediately thought this would be the perfect sitch to step out on the town solo for another date night. I obsessively checked their Instagram to make sure there was indeed a price cut. One thing about me, I will bend over backwards for a discount. I will die for a deal. Cheap date and proud of it, BB! I put on an adorable outfit, mascara (a rare occurrence these days), and took the 3 min drive downtown. I would’ve biked but the wind has already started it’s 8-month long F-U campaign against humanity. I debated bringing the book I’m reading but made a conscious choice to leave it at home. In my RomCom-saturated brain, I pictured sitting at the bar with no book or phone as a distraction, striking up a convo with another like-minded hottie open to sushi chats for the ultimate fishMEAT-cute.
I walked in, was greeted by the hostess, immediately asked if it was 1/2 price sushi night to be up front with my intentions. She said yes, I asked if I could sit at the bar to which she also gave me the affirmative, and then I did a hot lap of the bar and saw every spot taken with sushi in front of each individual and realized that every other Point Beach resident apparently had the same idea. Get a life, everyone. I hit up the hostess stand again and said I guess I need a table. She asked, “for one?” WOW, WHY DON’T YOU SHOUT THAT INTO A MEGAPHONE SO EVERYONE HERE KNOWS I’M EATING ALONE LIKE STEPHEN GLANSBERG. She then proceeded to sit me basically in her lap at the hostess stand. First high top table by the door, so either I’m getting knocked into by people entering and exiting, blown over by the gust of wind that hurls through every time the door opens, or confused for staff because I’m within touching distance of the hostess stand. GR8 SPOT, BABE! I take in my surroundings as I am facing the entire restaurant like I’m onstage at a freak show and see that there’s one TV in my sightline and it’s playing the YES network pre-game radio show. No sound. No captions. WHO THE HELL PLAYS A RADIO SHOW YOU CAN’T HEAR ON TV?! So I don’t have my book. I can’t feign interest in the TV because I’d literally be watching Michael Kay yap into a microphone without knowing what he’s actually saying. And every time I just look out into the room, I awkwardly catch eyes with someone and shit gets weird. You wanna yell at our generation for having our noses buried in our phones? WELL, WHAT OTHER CHOICE DO WE HAVE?
I sat staring into the abyss for an uncomfy amount of time. So much time that the hostess actually asked if someone had been over to take my order yet. I guess when you sit on the sidewalk it’s easy to be forgotten. Surprised someone didn’t ask me how long the wait was. One gentleman did ram his entire body into my table coming off of the bar too hot and had I gotten my drink yet, I would’ve been wearing it. No apologies were made because I had an invisibility cloak on, apparently. A guy finally comes over, takes my drink order and because I’m awkward I didn’t tell him I was ready to order too since I had a cool 45 mins with the menu to decide. Yep, you read that correctly, I’m so terrified of speaking up, that not disrupting the server ‘drinks then entree’ pattern is a fabulous example of how crippled I am by day-to-day interactions. Yet I’ll write an entire blog about one bad night and share all of my vulnerabilities on the world wide web. I AM a riddle, folks! But like, a fun one? I should save that tagline for the next time I’m forced to answer an online dating prompt.
Anyway, the server comes back and takes my order and I notice that there’s no verbiage on the menu about what counts for 1/2 price and what doesn’t, so I assume the whole menu is fair game. I order sashimi and rainbow roll. It comes out 5 mins later…the perks of eating skinned cold fish. In that time the radio on TV has switched to Texas Chainsaw Massacre. What a perfect dinner time show! I get to shove a roll in my mouth while humans get sliced and diced in front of my face. The ambiance is stunning. There’s two guys around my age sitting at the high top next to me putting away massive amounts of sushi and I have basically fallen out of my seat leaning to check if they have wedding rings. That’s how committed I was to still turning this night into a W. Then I saw a pretzel with cheese delivered to their table and almost puked in my mouth. Sushi and a pretzel? What are you two, serial killers?!
Tuna was kinda chewy.
I delete my sushi at warp speed. TBH, it wasn’t even that good. I goofed and ordered sashimi thinking it was nigiri and was immediately disappointed when it was delivered sans rice. The rainbow roll was cut so big that I had more than one occasion where my mouth was so full I thought I was going to choke…let the records show I’ve never seen a bite too big…or the fish was flopping out of my mouth and I had to unattractively poke it back in with the chopsticks. I locked eyes with a staff member mid-cheeks full and overflowing with raw fish bite and she literally made a face of pity at me. It’s time for me to hit the road, Jack. I signaled for the check and WOULDN’T YOU KNOW IT, that baby shows FULL PRICE SUSHI. I call my nervous awkward bird of a server back over and say this is supposed to be half price. He magically produces a paper insert menu with HALF PRICE SUSHI in block letters at the top. He tells me that ironically, I ordered two things not included on that specialty menu. COLOR ME SHOCKED!
Natch this is the first time I’m seeing this menu, which leads me to believe the hostess had it out for me from the get-go, even before my dumpster table choice. She knew what I was here for and slipped that discount menu right on out with a sleight of hand. I’m nothing if not inappropriate, so I replied to my server, “well F me, right?!” He was certainly not expecting that response but he saw the “I’m cheap AF” glint in my eye and knew I wasn’t going down without a fight. He told me he’d go see if he could fix the bill. KthxbyEEEEEE! I’m not saying he’s the problem, because this was clearly hostess girl-on-girl crime, but if someone orders sushi on a half price sushi night, wouldn’t you take a beat to say, I don’t know if you know this but those aren’t included in the deal? I could either say, sure I’m rich, I don’t need to nickel and dime you for mid sush. Or what I would’ve said is YEAH, OBVIOUSLY I AM HERE ONLY FOR A DISSY, DUDE. WHICH ONES ARE THE CHEAPIES? Either way, he would’ve given me the option. Not really a crack team here.
He returns to the table, slides the bill over to me, and purrs, “I talked to some people and took care of it.” OH, OK PHIL! Did you just wink? Am I dating my server now? Did I get what I wanted after all? I’m kidding, Phil can’t handle me. I paid the bill and beat it out of there as fast as I could but not before noticing the bar was wide open when I left. Sometimes it doesn’t pay to be 33 trapped in a 65 year old’s body that will literally wither away if she doesn’t eat dinner at 5pm sharp. I live in an early bird special town and that doesn’t bode well for chair availability. I’d never survive in Boca.
As always, I relive this fail of a night on my drive home, already thinking about how I must blog another CLASSIC Salty Ju hopeful to a fault, fantasy-bursting, mediocre experience. I was already looking forward to ripping my bra off and getting into soft clothes and probably never leaving my home again. But NOPE, the universe had one more practical joke in store for me. In the form of a LITERAL practical joke. As I drive down the road leading to my neighborhood, I see teenagers up ahead in the middle of the road. Since I’m not looking to kill a child, I naturally slow down, which isn’t hard since the speed limit is already 25 and I’m barely crawling. That’s when I see two lil punks meet in the middle of the road, hold their hands out, and run back towards the edges where their stupid lil punk friends are waiting, iPhones out, flash on, cameras rolling. Since I’m hip to the Tok, I know exactly what they’re doing because I’ve seen it before while doom scrolling. It’s a “prank” kids do where they mime like they’re pulling a rope across the road, and then film drivers’ reactions. If I had to guess, your chance of getting an outraged reaction from a Jersey driver is about 8 million percent higher than anywhere else in the country. So these little shits are pretty smart. They get their Tok views from their dumbass high school buddies and a laugh.
NOT TONIGHT, BITCHES. I was a SECOND away from womping on the horn and screaming FUCK ALL THE WAY OFF out the window. A real R-rated version of old man yelling get off my lawn. KIDS THESE DAYS. Go back to ding dong ditching, ya fools. I’m so afraid for our future if this is what youths are doing for weeknight entertainment. What’s even more sad is that these f*ckfaces will end up making six figures from a post like that in the era of influencers as a career. I sped through and gave them a dirty look, which is my idea of confrontation. I also wished (in my head and through text) that one of them gets clipped. I’m not a monster, I don’t want a kid getting seriously injured but would LOVE a lil dust-up with a side mirror or something. Just enough to scare them straight.
Listen, I’d like to end this story with the fact that I’m never going out for solo bargain sushi again, or that I’m never going out again full stop. But we all know that’s not true. As long as I’m breathing I’m going to keep trying and then weaving a tale for the greater good when I end up mortified. In fact, If you’re a long-time listener, first time caller and this story rang a little familiar it’s because I told almost the same exact story after attending Taylor Swift Trivia. The only difference is that three years later I’m out looking for a man to dine with and not 22 year old friends who know what time Taylor Swift was born. That’s called growth, baby! So whatdya think? Should we continue the saga? Do I keep tabling for one and reporting back until I’m a skeleton? LMK.
Also, not a cry for help but kind of a cry for help…if you have any suggestions or know of any babe sodas interested, I’ve really had to kick the huzz hunt into high gear after finding a mouse living in my grill for the second time in the past three months. A grill that I use every single night. And let’s not forget about the Stuart Little that was cruising around in my glovebox last November. So, REALLY need a bruh to manage all of the rodents trying to infiltrate my life and punish me for merely existing. I am a beautiful princess but I’m not trying to be Cinderella out here kickin it with mice pals so there is an urgent need to fill this prince role by EOY. Pls inquire within. And don’t even think about asking me how my week is going.
I was going to blab about these two a few weeks back when I nearly cringed out of my skin listening to them interact and talk about their sex life on a “truth or drink” podcast episode. The universe gave me a second chance to pop off because after 7 months, they are DUNZO. It was laugh out loud funny back in the spring when Kristin debuted her new relashe with a fresh outta college TikTok star. It was even funnier when every time Kristin opened her mouth on her pod (I’m an avid listener, obv) she was slobbering all over how hot this man is. Take another look at the photo above. This guy is a Frankenstein double. The girth of his head and surface area of his forehead gives Julia Stiles a run for her money. I imagine this is why he’s typically wearing a giant hat, trying desperately to cover up that five head. What’s certainly not doing him any favors is his mullet. Not just any ole mullet, but a mullet with blonde highlights…
I’m sorry but Kristin is a smokeshow. She’s in her late thirties and she looks better than ever. I couldn’t for a second fathom why she was dating this block head who rose to TikTok stardom from LIP SYNCING country songs. Nope, that’s it. That’s what made him and his boyz go viral. They stand in a line and rotate mouthing the words. I really wanted to be in the camp of supporters that were like GOOD FOR HER! DATE A YOUNG HOTTIE AND HAVE SOME FUN! Except that her ex-husband was a million times hotter than this chooch. So I waited. I waited while she gushed over how he’s different than other guys because he’s not threatened by her job. And he gets her flowers. And he tells her she’s really pretty. (Gotta know what creatures Kristin has been dating that telling her she’s pretty means marriage material.) I waited while they seemed to cross the threshold of “should I have more kids for this guy who is still pretty much a kid himself?” And then the last straw was their podcast together where he barely uttered full sentences but one of them was “you’re the best sex I’ve ever had.” And she replied “omg I am?! you’ve never told me that!!” BABE HE’S 24. THAT IS NOT A LOT TO COMPARE TO.
Rumors hit the tabs on Friday that they split, but I wanted to hear it from the horse’s mouth and I didn’t have to wait long because she let it slip at a live show Friday night and then told everyone to keep it quiet until her podcast episode dropped Tuesday with the news. YA right. TikTok LIT up with clips. I made her pod appt TV Tuesday morning… I mean, I literally watched it on YouTube frothing for the goss. And of course, there wasn’t any. She had nothing but nice things to say about this big ooga booga dum dum kid from Montana. She said he was the best boyfriend she ever had, best relationship she’s ever been in, has zero regrets, but ultimately the age difference was just not going to work long-term. For any girlies who watched The Idea of You, it was that without the popstar aspect. She realized she’d be ruining his life by keeping him so she released him back into the world to be a kid who just graduated from college and makes TikTok videos and not a stepdad and a purse holder of a successful woman nearing her forties. And who knows, maybe just like that movie (spoiler alert) this little puppy comes crawling back after he’s done plowing through all the single chicks in Nashville and is ready to settle down. But I’m guessing Kristin will be snatched up pretty soon. I’m just glad she came to her senses and shut it down. As for the Montana Boyz, they’ll start filming a reality show soon so get ready for these dummies to hit the big screen–something literally none of us ever asked for.
You’ve gotta have a heart of stone not to tear up at this. Eminem, big ole tough guy rapper, has always been a softie for his daughter. Pretty cool for someone from his background with the issues he’s had to have a kid at 23, raise her to be a normal human and still have a great relationship with her. He’s still putting out new music and hasn’t retired from the rap game yet and now he’s going to be Grandpa Slim. More importantly, he was already embracing the style of a geriatric prior to his daughter even getting preggers so he should slide into this role seamlessly if he keeps putting these honkers on his face in order to see words.
3. Ellen Didn’t Enjoy Being Cancelled.
Not fresh news, but what can I say it’s a slow week. Ellen made her “comeback” with a Netflix comedy special where she addresses getting cancelled and disappearing for a few years. I have never ONE TIME wondered what Ellen was up to in the past few years or wondered what she had to say. Truly. My mom was a big Ellen stan back in her heyday. Used to dance with her in the kitchen. Thought she was hysterical. Then started to fall off because you can only be obsessed with a white woman dancing over her coffee table for so many years before the schtick is old. Back in my college intern days, I heard many fellow slaves tell me that they’ve either experienced firsthand or heard through the Hollywood grapevine that Ellen’s a huge dick and sucks to work for. And obviously that was her downfall. She was investigated and the court of public opinion said GTFO of here, ya meanie! There’s nothing I hate more than a fake bitch and someone who built an entire empire on kindness actually being a total f*cking twat deserves to lose said career. Which of course, she didn’t. She’s still getting paid probably the big bucks to do a special and she’ll continue to wah-wah about this. Her special addresses the therapy she had to go through because everyone hated her. And yet her special doesn’t address AN APOLOGY. Any ownership. Really any sort of recognition that she does indeed suck, and was terrible to her employees and actually isn’t really a nice person at all. So how about we NOT reward this bad behavior and lazy, shitty jokes, and let her fade back into oblivion. She had her moment. It’s time to say bye bye to Ellen. Step over that coffee table and dance right off the stage, beb.
4. Everybody Wants This.
Everyone’s all about the new Netflix Rom-Com Series “Nobody Wants This” and it’s worth the hype. Kristen Bell and Adam Brody are drumming up all of the millennial nostalgia (really mostly Adam Brody) with a funny, emotionally mature take on a love story. Quick synopsis: Joanne and her sister Morgan have a podcast about their dating/sex life that I wish was a real life pod because these two are hysterical togets but obviously never funnier than my sister and I are…and Noah is a rabbi. Noah and Joanne have a meet-cute at a mutual friend’s dinner party and the rest of the series follows their courtship in 10 half-hour episodes that really fly by. They face the possibility of head Jew and a non-Jew being together with all of the side storylines and quirks of their families and friends sprinkled in. It’s adorbs and most importantly, it’s the most emotionally available (what’s that like?) male lead I’ve ever seen. It should come as no shock that the boy who made Seth Cohen a nerdy, sarcastic 2000’s heartthrob, grew up to be a hot funny rabbi who can handle some tough feelings talks.
Girls everywhere (me) are pining to date this fictional character, even if we don’t know how old he is. (That’s my only gripe with this show…they don’t speak of age but Kristen and Adam are clearly in their forties, and LOOK like they’re in their forties, and yet I think they’re supposed to be playing early thirties…real stretch here. Not even botox can make us believe that.) But seriously though, this moment below in itself (spoiler alert but actually not really a spoiler because there’s no context at all to it) is better than porn for girls. For any girl who’s ever been told she’s too much (me, me, me, me, me) this character and the hope that he exists in the real world and not just in a script will heal you.
5. YA GOTTA BELIEVE!
The New York Metropolitans are in the NLDS for the first time since 2015 and the week I finally snagged a glam shot with the Mrs. (and partied with the whole gang) was the week they turned their entire season around and started winning like nobody’s biz. Coincidence? I think not. You may be wondering, ok but how does this count as celebrity news and to that I say, HOW DARE YOU NOT CONSIDER MRS. MET A CELEBRITY?! You better hope Mr. Met didn’t hear you besmirching her good name so he doesn’t have to go all Will Smith and tell you to keep his wife’s name OUTCHA MOUTH. Sorry not sorry, I’m PUMPED. I’ve been watching hype videos since the dubb last night and I’m ready to run through a brick wall and also salsa my face off to OMG! PS my lifelong diehard Mets fan of an ex-boyf declared the season was over in May, refusing to watch games for an entire month and therefore he does not deserve to celebrate this sweet, sweet victory of a team that literally will not quit and keeps coming back for more. In May I said, it’s only May, don’t be so dramatic. AND GUESS WHO WAS RIGHT. Apparently some of us lack the full spectrum of human emotions and therefore just don’t know how to BELIEVE. CUE THE MOTHAFUCKIN MUSIC! (Sorry for cursing, dad, but let me have this one cause I’m FIRED ALL THE WAY UP.)
I know how ridiculous of me it was to be like the JUIce is back, bitches! And then immediately take a week off. In my defense, I had planned on doing one last week but then I came back from NYC on Thursday and had fresh guests arriving Friday at noon. So realistically, my social calendar didn’t allow for it. And I actually was bummed because it seems like now that I’m JUicing again, the celeb headlines are coming hot & heavy. So forgive me if I dip into last week’s news as well, or report on some ongoing goss because I’m literally bursting with opinions.
1. N*SYNC IS SOBACK.
If you know me off the blog, you know I’ve been rumbling about this for an entire year now. Refer to this tweet for proof:
Is my dad forever a #GirlDad of boyband crazy teens or forever being shamed for the time he got us tickets to the N*SYNC celebrity tour then took them away from us for “bad behavior” and took my oldest sister and her two stupid friends instead. Dad, if you’re reading this, you can make it up to me and Nikki by emptying your life savings into tix to this tour and a M&G. Put that Amex to WERK. (Let the records show that we berated him back then too and he did eventually buy another round of tickets but THAT MEANS MY OLDEST SISTER GOT TO SEE THEM TWICE AND SHE DIDN’T EVEN REALLY LIKE THEM.) #NEVERFORGET.
We’re Ready.
AnYwAy…a year ago TikTok was buzzin with an N*SYNC reunion…then in total breadcrumbing style they stretched it out all year long. In September we got the first N*SYNC tune in FOREVA called Better Place. INSTANT banger but also made for a Trolls movie. Then JT releases new music and announces an album. Album drops in March and there’s another N*SYNC song on it. It kinda sucks. It’s slow and about being old but still being gr8. It’s certainly no “Gone.” Then in promo for his album and pending tour, they reunite onstage for one of his private free ticket pop-up shows in LA. Not for nothing, but I tried to get ticcies to his show in NYC and I’m fully convinced the tickets were exclusively for rich people and Tok influencers because he just wanted buzz for his first album in 6 years. The album sucks…go figure. The N*SYNC chatter dies down because JT has taken center stage as a solo act again and just used them as a gimmick and to tease people. Karma came back around for that selfish lil bitch when he caught a DUI in the Hamptons. Luckily for me, he gave me “this is totally going to ruin the world tour,” which I freely used at every minor inconvenience all summer long. It didn’t ruin the tour…his shit album probably did. But never doubt the powers of a famous person, he got off with only one request: issue a public apology. This was his “apology” where he no less than 10 times not so subtly referenced only having one drink, making it seem like he was unjustly charged. Mmk, babe. Cut to this week, where Lance is verbally confirming to every news outlet that they’re working on something.
EVERYONE BE COOL. It’s happening. And honestly not a minute too soon because I just recently saw JC in a Meow Mix commercial and Chris Kirkpatrick has been emcee’ing 90’s pop tours with reject boy banders at deserted shopping malls. When I alerted my sister to the breaking news, she immediately crushed my dreams by stating the obvious…these tickets will be harder to obtain than The Eras Tour. And as someone who lost years of her life trying to go to the Eras Tour, that’s NOT music to my dang dong ears. Also, clearly a pub stunt for JT who continues to look like a selfish dick over and over again. Honestly, not even mad about that but if Ticketmaster fucks this up, THIS IS TOTALLY GOING TO RUIN THE WORLD TOUR.
2. Diddy Down.
I almost yapped about this in my JUice comeback a couple weeks ago but honestly thought he’d get away with it again and didn’t want to draw any more attention to a rich dirtbag who will continue to be a rich dirtbag. But boy am I glad I waited because the jig is up, Puff. Last week Diddy was charged with racketeering conspiracy, sex trafficking, and transportation to engage in prostitution. He was peddling his typical “this is all false and people are just accusing me because they’re seeking money or fame” BS. And then BAM, he gets indicted and tossed in the slammer without bail until the hearing. HALLELUJAH! Let him ROT. Last spring is when the wheels started to really fall off for Diddy. After SEVERAL accusations and court cases of abuse that he seemed to shake off, an investigation from the feds started, he beat it out of the country and then his house was being raided. TONS of videos resurfaced of him being generally creepy and odd “we’ve just taken in this teenager into our family who has perfectly good parents but now she’s in our family” announcements from the past. The grand finale was a video of him beating the absolute snot out of Cassie in a hotel hallway from 2016. Cassie was his girlfriend for 11 years (and a singer on his label) who had also taken him to court for abuse in 2023 and as Diddy does, he denied it all and got away scot-free and this tape didn’t see the light of day until now. From what I’m gathering via the clips that I saw and interviews with other singers, it is a well-known secret that Diddy is an absolute scumbag and always has been. He doesn’t discriminate on gender, he’ll sexually assault anyone he feels like, and everyone for years has just let it happen and been like ope that’s just Puffy…his parties are crazy!!
So obviously, F this guy and anyone who looked the other way or joined in on his crimes like most of his staff did. The raid of his house in March resulted in the feds finding guns, drugs, and more than 1,000 bottles of lube. MORE THAN ONE THOUSAND BOTTLES. Honestly that alone is proof that he’s raping errebody. You lube up for butt stuff or when the recipient IS NOT A WILLING PARTICIPANT (or they’re a dried up ole cactus, but let’s be real here, that’s not on the table with a famous rapper.) His lawyer claims he had that much lube because American’s buy in bulk…I’ll just let that sit there. Costco has already made a statement that they don’t sell baby oil. Anywho, the second Diddy realized they weren’t wavering and letting him out on bail, he was put on suicide watch because of course. And my favorite two cents, Suge Knight made a statement that someone will probably hurt Diddy in prison “to make a name for themself.” Thank God he spoke out because I was really DYING for a murderer’s opinion on a serial rapist and sex trafficker. One can only hope another prisoner gives Diddy a taste of his own medicine. Keeping my fingers crossed that he doesn’t weasel his way into an innocent ruling from this trial and that the music industry creeps start falling like dominoes in a revival of #MeToo. PS: items 1 & 2 colliding 😮
3. Tree Hill Divided.
*NICHE* audience alert. If you didn’t watch 9 seasons of this teen soap, you’re not gonna give an F about this dramz. Unless, like me, you gobble up any sort of drama even if you know nothing about it. In which case, I’ll give you the cliff-notes of this tea to catch you up to speed. One Tree Hill was a teen show in the age of The OC and Gossip Girl where high school meant pregnancies and shootings and banging your teacher. As previously reported by The Salty Ju, One Tree Hill was the first show to band together and do a takedown of their creator in the #MeToo era. They outed Marc Schwann for not only being an inappropriate and abusive pig, but also for pitting them all against each other and creating a feeling on set that it was every WOman for himHERself. In an effort to take back the show, the three leads created a re-watch podcast a few years back and they’ve been podcasting each episode, serving BTS goss that further implicates the gross environment happening while they filmed. It’s juicy and obviously I haven’t missed an epi. Well, all was grand with that until this past year when it became very clear that Hilarie Burton and Bethany Joy were beefing. Some snarky things were posted, social media accounts were blocked, and podcast episodes were starting to miss one or the other until July when it was announced that Hilarie was off the pod and Robert Buckley would be taking her place. On a podcast called Drama Queens, which has been HEAVILY feminist and “take back our sisterhood, f*ck the man” vibes. Listeners were like WTF, rightfully so. And right around when that happened, news dropped of an OTH reboot in the works at Netflix led by none other than Sophia Bush, Hilarie Burton, Danneel Harris, & Bevin Prince.
And it became VERY clear that this “inclusive” remake was actually just the girls who are still besties working on something and leaving out who they don’t want around. Joy has had no association with this announcement, hasn’t commented on anything, and it’s become glaringly obvious that they mean girled her out of it. I mean, Sophia is on a weekly podcast with her and cut her out of the deal. That’s some bullshit right there. A few weeks went by and Chad Michael Murray confirmed he’s not involved (not shocking considering him and Sophia rarely cross paths if they can help it.) Then Joy teased an announcement and it ended up being an interview/reunion with James for her magazine that she apparently has. And this week they each gave interviews saying they know nothing about this reboot AKA they weren’t invited. This past week we got another glimpse of the house divided when Shantel VanSanten (Quinn) gave a podcast interview where she said she heard about the reboot in the news along with everyone else and would only consider participating “if it was about fairness and inclusivity.” BAM. Real rich of Hilarie and Sophia to be on their high horses parading through the streets for women’s rights and being treated with kindness and it turns out they’re just a couple of bullies. Hilarie also gave an interview this week and said, “What I can say is that this go-around, being able to work with a team of women and look at these stories [and] these characters through a female lens is something that — whether I was doing a reboot or a brand-new show or a different movie at this phase in my life, female teamwork is something that is so vital to me,” Burton said. “It is the core of anything I’ve done that’s successful. So I’m excited to be able to team up with people that I look up to, people that I love dearly.” If I was Joy I’d be middle fingers up posting a takedown of this bullshit.
To further hammer the point home, there was a big reunion convention this past weekend and Sophia only posted pictures with the same cast members, Danneel wore a blinged belt that said producer (as she’s an EP with Sophia and Hilarie on the reboot) and Joy and James were nowhere to be found in any of their postings. Not putting out inclusive vibes, GIRLEEZZEEEE!
I did the Lord’s work and watched this so you don’t have to. It was a SUPER random mixture of child stars, half of whom I’ve never felt the need to hear from again, and here are some of my hard-hitting thoughts in bullet form (because of course I took notes.)
Before we get into the movie, I have a bone to pick with Hulu, who just sent a casual alert that they’ll be raising their price, who I already pay $80 a month to for live TV, and we can’t get through a feature film without them serving me 100 commercials. THAT SHOULD BE ILLEGAL.
Onto my overall hot take on this film…it doesn’t know what it wants to be. Demi clearly wanted to talk about her own life and story…which she’s done now in 2 separate docs so it really wasn’t necessary, and she definitely wants to promote her new music, but she’s doing it under the guise of interviewing other child stars. We really didn’t need her hands in this because then we could’ve heard these other stars stories without Demi overshadowing or one-upping their trauma. When Kenan and Raven are like yikes, bitch your life was crazy, you know it’s time to stop putting your two cents in and let them just share their truths. On top of this weird ‘she’s interviewing people while also being interviewed back by them’ dynamic, there’s parts about legislation and appearances from reporters and people lobbying for rights and flashbacks to Shirley Temple and more than once I was like what are we watching here? Pick a story to tell.
Kenan wore sunglasses for his entire interview and it was suuuuuuuch a douche move.
Drew Barrymore used to get high at 10 with her mom’s friend. Coming from someone who has never gotten high, I quite literally gasped at that.
JoJo Siwa posts 250-300 posts a day on Snapchat. I mean…💀💀💀
It felt a little tacky to be skirting the entire topic of abuse of child actors hot off the heels of that Nickelodeon doc. Sure, they all (except Kenan) brushed upon struggles that they had with addiction or eating disorders, but now that we’ve seen how Nick was operating at that time–which btw Kenan claims he never witnessed, I have to imagine Disney had similarities and to not touch on that was odd.
The credits rolled, I saw Scooter Braun was a producer and I shouted OH FUCK THIS on my couch to no one. Discredited the whole thing.
Guh’ head and skip this one…but NGL, the Demi song slapped, as her music always does.
5. ARE YA IN OR ARE YA OUT, JEN?!
Again, a carry-over from last week, but still on-going news. Ben and Jen were out in Hollywood and although they looked like they wanted to murder each other in paps photos as they always do, many sources reported them canoodling inside all day long. And it’s like FIGURE IT OUT, GUYS. Are you going to keep peddling this fate brought us back together love story? Or are you going to be real (LISTEN TO YOUR OWN LYRICS, JLO) and admit the reunion was fun for like 6 months of banging and then you realized you’re wildly incompatible. Ben wants to stay out of the spotlight, rip ciggs and mainline Dunks. Jen wants attention 24/7 and will literally never stop grinding in movies and music. THE JIG IS UP. This past week Jenny from the Block uploaded a selfie with a necklace that says Ben and it was immediately taken down like OOPSIE that wasn’t supposed to be posted! OK WELL ARE YOU TWO GETTING DIVORCED OR NAH? Cut the shit.
BONUS: Hoda announced she’s leaving the Today Show
Apparently everyone on the show was shocked by this news, but an article mentioned that her daughter has some health problems and it kinda seems like a no brainer that as a single mom, she’s spending QT with her kids, especially if one needs more attention. She’s an icon, and I used to love the Hoda & Kathie Lee era of guzzlin wine and babbling nonsense. I find Jenna Bush Hager to be incredibly screechy, so can’t say I’ve dabbled since Kath left, but Hodesters will be missed. Also an excuse to post one of my favorite SNL repeating sketches that was honestly v accurate of how KLG and Hodes interacted on the daily.
I spent Thursday through Sunday alternating between pool and beach soaking up peak summer sunshine because may I remind you, summer does not *officially* end until September 21st and it felt a little jarring to be thrown back into awards season. I’d like to petition the Emmys to move to later in the month. I’m not ready for it yet. It’s too soon. So please accept this rusty re-initiation into red carpet season with a promise that it will get better. Luckily for us all, I’ll have some time to properly adjust and regulate my seasonal moods before we really start gaining steam in the colder months when there’s nothing else to wake up for.
WORST
It physically pains me to put Connie with the Good Hair on the worst dressed list but this gown is TERRIBLE.
This pattern is way too busy. It definitely looked better on TV than it does up close in a still photo, but literally looking at it right now is giving me a headache. If I may, the compliment bread to this insult is her leg looks amazing and her dark pedi is ALMOST making me want to go back to the days when I Lincoln Park After Dark’ed my fingers and toes the second the calendar changed to September.
A literal knight in full armor would take one look at this getup and be like wtf are you wearing? Why would you give an optical illusion that you have BOTH linebacker shoulders and a FUPA the size of the Liberty Bell?
Ma’am. Someone ripped a curtain off of the rod and fastened it around your neck. You cannot convince me otherwise.
It’s giving creepy doll that came to life. What was that horror movie last year? Megan? That was Brie’s inspiration for this look. I understand dressing like a 5 year old is making a comeback with bow culture, but pairing a bow with a cupcake tiered tulle is a scooch TOO toddlers & tiaras.
REEBZ. HOLY MULLET. Imagine not realizing your updo gives you biz in the front, party in the back on accident? Yoikes. Also this reflectively busy emerald pantsuit is A CHOICE. A single mom who works too hard, who loves her kids and never stops deserves better.
Bad color, bad Edward Scissorhands hack job at the bottom of the gown, and I’m sorry to h8 my own kind, but what’s the happs with these curls? Alright that felt like a step too far. I take it back. Mostly because I don’t want bad curl karma. I’ve had curly hair for 33 years and I still don’t know how to properly style it. So instead I’ll say, what’s your routine, Juno? Those curls are CURLIN.
STOP GIVING YOURSELVES POINTY SHOULDERS OR I’LL COME OUT THERE AND POKE YOU REPEATEDLY UNTIL YOU STOP.
I feel like I would’ve liked this gown better without the flowers. But also, logistically speaking, how does one walk in this cocoon? Her foot is FIGHTING FOR ITS LIFE to pop out and show off those shoes.
Maybe if she wasn’t busy playing rugby while she was in Paris last month she would’ve known that the fashion capital of the world would DRAG HER for wearing PEPLUM on a red carpet. KILL IT WITH FIRE.
What’s with the boog sash, Leese?
I’m so confused by this “dress” but I know drapes when I see them. We as a society need to stop encouraging curtains as formalwear.
I don’t know if I just haven’t seen Kathy Bates since she guest-starred on The Office 10 years ago or what, but she lost a shit-ton of weight. Good for her! Here’s my bone to pick. That hairstyle ages her at least 1600 years. The pulled back bouffant is exclusively for ancient women in the 1400’s and if she wore her hair in literally any other way, she would’ve looked like a stone-cold stunna.
This obviously isn’t the VMA’s where people dress for shock value, so you’ll notice that instead of being disgusted and putting someone on the worst dressed list to publicly shame them, I have a lot of far less dramatic: “not quite hitting for me” commentary. And that’s exactly what this is. She doesn’t look bad by any means, but I’ve seen her crush it with much bolder outfits so this is real snoozy.
Well now we’re quickly back to publicly shaming because this shirt should be a costume for a flamenco dancer and nothing else. Also, some of the hardest flares I’ve ever seen. Nearly JNCO’s. Clean it up.
I cannot get past this chunky pendant. The dress is whatever but what the hell is going on with that sorcerer’s stone hanging round her gullet? Does it hold evil powers?
What an odd style for a black-tie event. Very fall, but also what your aunt might wear to brunch. I honestly don’t think I’ve ever seen someone wear a boot to an awards show, other than country awards of course.
We get it, you lift.
A buttoned peplum IS STILL A PEPLUM.
Could honestly flip flop either way on this but the more that I dwell on the top of this dress, the more I feel like it looks like a piece of macaroni.
It’s like the one man show that sings the male and female parts by turning sides.
This is very casino-esque and more in an Atlantic City way rather than Vegas way, if you catch my drift. It’s just so loud and bright and I feel like there could’ve been better options to make her stand out but not look tacky. That being said, glad she got her first W amongst Hollywood elite nominees. Suck it, Meryl.
I don’t know that the Emmys are the event for a Jessica Rabbit va-va-voom gown. Came in a little hot with this one.
Never like to put a host on the worst dressed list but I’ve done far more cutthroat things in red carpets past. This shirt evokes so many feelings and none of them are positive. The halfsie turtleneck is so perplexing. Why not do a full wrap-around collar. It’s like vampire if the vampire is only shy about showing half of his face. It’s like if you stuck your napkin in your top button but a strong gust blew it up. It’s like you put a hoodie on sideways. It’s like RAAAAIIII-AYE-ANEEEEEEEE on your wedding day. Just kidding. But seriously what was the point of that Shakespearean neck decor.
Top half is politician and bottom half is hideous. Let’s just fasten it all together with a white bow why don’t we! Also, white pointy pumps?! Are those coming back too? What a joy to watch some of the worst trends of each generation coming out to play this year.
BEST
We’ll allow it because Alan is actually Scottish and therefore can wear traditional outfits from his country and be seen as cool and cultured rather than trying to make Christmas happen 3 months early.
Love the black widow to the baby blue.
BARBARA JEAN MAKING A COMEBACK WITH BIG HAIR AND A CAPE! GET IT GURL.
This photo made me cream my jeans. The tinted shades, the chesties, the cocky pose. Nailed it.
Elegant with a little peekaboo pizazz!
Whether in undies on a billboard or a classic black tux, that smolder will melt panties.
Oh ok, Meryl with your cotton candy suit. Go off.
Feathers are so F-U cocky, I love it. Especially in this soft pink. Also omg am I seeing double?! BITCH STOLE MY LOOK ON A RED CARPET?!
REESE!!! Always in a plain primary color dress with the same straight hair, I’m living for this breath of fresh air for her. Love the embroidered florals and top knot!
Hot damn, Diane! It’s like the first time I straightened my hair in 6th grade and looked like a brand new person. Or I guess, a slightly less frizzy version head accented by watermelon-colored braces. I feel like Diane is often an updo girlie and this hair is sleek as hell. Really sets the tone for this whole chic ‘fit.
I realize I moments ago said the Emmys aren’t for a Jessica Rabbit va-va-voom and this is EXACTLY that. But respect your elders. Sofia Vergara built a career on wearing this type of dress and dropping jaws and then opening her mouth and sounding like a fork in a garbage disposal and covering ears. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.
This dress truly looks like metallic liquid on her bodice and all the respect for knowing exactly how to pose it to create this delish optical illusion.
Didn’t get a whole lot of big ole ball gowns last night so I extra appreciate this moment. Great color on her and of course, spicy leg pop.
Many ladies went for the sparkle and I ate that shit right up. This dress is the perfect style for her and I love the rose detail, a nod to Moira Rose perhaps?
I die for monochrome coordinates and the cape, dress, and purse all being the exact same color is doing things for me. Beautiful!
This pose makes me want to get wrapped in a big ole bear hug by Billy. At first I thought he was wearing a cardigan and honestly I liked that better than a jacket. Billy can wear pretty much anything and look huggable.
I would die for this gown. STUNNING.
Probably would’ve gone less Christmas clown with the lip if it were me, but the dress is simple elegance.
A rich PLUM. YUM.
Perfect blue tie! Eugene looking dapper for 1/2 of the hosting gig.
A timeless look for her first nom.
I tried to make all of my friends feel bad for me today as I pointed out the sliver of white skin that was showing because I was wearing higher cut bikini bottoms and I wanted everyone to feel my pain that in just a few short months my entire body will be that color once again as winter suffocates me and ruins my life and my beautiful sun-kissed skin. And then I saw this photo. My winter skin could be considered the ebony to Dakota Fanning’s ivory. Holy shit that’s a pasty complexion. Near translucent. I’ll stop crying about losing my tan now. (Jk I NEVER WILL.) Even though this milky dress is the same exact color as her bod, it is lovely. The pearl overlay is chef’s kiss. I bet it would look BOMB with my tan…which will be gone by Thanksgiving.
Cannot take my eyes off this shiny material that looks like wet latex. Supes flattering and so fun that I’m willing to overlook the cat ears chesticles.
Living for a blue suit and the floral shirt completes the look.
Not a big fan of the halter neck, which seemed to be a celeb favorite at this show, but I got a lady boner for the ombre sparkly finish.
I dig this more subtle shimmer and obviously fits her like a glove. I’m jelly. I’m constantly trying to wear a fitted dress and then turning sideways in the mirror and remembering that if I wear clothing that clings to my bodice then everyone will see how long it’s been since I’ve last pooped. Typically 3-5 business days. MUST BE NICE TO HAVE REGULAR BOWELS, PADMA.
FAVORITE LOOK OF THE NIGHT
Sure this is basically sheet metal and normally I’d make some joke about wrapping thyself in aluminum foil, but I’m captivated by this dress. The thatching pattern and the way the hem is cut differently, plus the sparkly accents, all of it is working to catch my attention. Total curveball because I’m nothing if not predictable with what I like and what I mercilessly mock on red carpets. I think Kristen looks amazing, the lack of accessories or dramatic makeup perfectly complements this wild dress. So there ya go, kicking things off with an unexpected fangirl moment for tin. All hail the tinwoman.
IT’S BAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAACK! The last time I JUiced was Sept 7th, 2021. WOW. I took three years off from rounding up the celeb headlines each week and gettin real mouthy about them. Honestly, for a while it felt like we were hearing more about Z-list reality TV drama in the goss rags than actual celebs. And The Salty Ju doesn’t perpetuate that shit. I wanna talk high-class divorces like Bennifer, not what the cast of Little People, Big World buy at the Piggly Wiggly. Lately, we’ve been getting some big juicy stories and I cannot keep a muzzle on it. I GOTTA SHOUT MY HOT TAKES INTO THE VOID. MAMA NEEDS HER JUice!
1. Nikki Bella Files for Divorce.
BIG Bella Twins stan here. I used to live for their reality show, I read their memoir, and perhaps took it a *little* too personally when Nikki called off the wedding with John Cena. John went on to marry a Nikki clone, proving he certainly has a type, and Nikki rebounded with Artem, formerly her DWTS partner. The early days of their romance played out on their TV show and as I watched her express doubts about him or if she was even over calling off a wedding to a man she had been with for YEARS like the week it was supposed to go down…I had a strong notion this wasn’t a forever coupling. Then she got preggers as celebs tend to do, and obviously they gave it a real shot and even ended up televising their wedding, which TBH, when I watched that I still was like SHOULD THESE TWO MAKE THIS OFFICIAL?! But everything has been all roses on social media, much like this anniversary post just a couple weeks ago: (I imagine this will be removed in the near future but I couldn’t screenshot because it’s a video so enjoy it while you can.)
Well, that love story came to a crashing halt three days after this post when Artem was arrested for domestic violence. Not many deets were released and neither Artem or Nikki addressed it publicly, but I read somewhere that he was actually the one who called 911 and claimed she threw a shoe at him, and then when cops showed up it was clear who had injuries and who didn’t. Since the arrest, Nikki hosted a hot dog eating competition on Netflix without her ring, and OBVIOUSLY former dancing partners of Artem have noted that he was aggressive or said weird shit that maybe pointed in the direction of him being a dirtbag. BIG YIKES. Not that I feel good about any of this, but I’ll be a nosy nelly til I’m 6 ft under, especially with celebs I’ve ridden so hard for, and I’ve been TUNED IN trying to get more info on the sitch. Did I think they would last? Absolutely not. But did I think she was a victim of DV? Never. I mean, that’s 1/2 of the Bella Twins, a WWE wrestler. HOW YOU GONNA SMACK THAT AROUND?! Credit to her for dropping the divorce hammer almost immediately. She filed this week citing the date of separation as the day of the arrest and I was shocked. I thought for sure they’d do trial separation or try to work things out, but as my sister so perfectly put it: “When the whole world knows your husband beats you and you were a WWE star you better file QUICK.” More power to her! We are FIRMLY Team Nikki. FINISH HIM.
2. There Goes My Hero.
When I tell you I CACKLED when this news dropped. You mean to tell me that the lead singer of a rock band that’s been regularly touring for literal decades CHEATS ON HIS WIFE?! I mean good lord, how is this news?! Musicians and athletes have been spreading their seed since the dawn of time. But apparently people are shocked by this. Here’s Dave’s official statement on the matter:
Love the “born outside of my marriage” terminology like it’s the Puritan era. Wherefore art thou condoms, Dave? Dave’s kids are grown so first and foremost let’s send some T’s and P’s to him for having to start over with “raising” a child. I’m not naive enough to think that he’ll do any of the raising, but I imagine if you’re going to go public with this and stir shit up, he at least intends to be a part of this baby’s life and probably section off a portion of his riches for child support. If I had to crystal ball the future here, I’d say wifey sticks with him. In fact, I’d be surprised if she doesn’t. When you marry a rockstar, you HAVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU’RE SIGNING UP FOR. She made that choice and will probably continue to make it and look the other way when he tours his wiener all over the globe for years to cum.
3. RIP to a LEGEND.
RIP to my childhood, more like it. James Earl Jones was THE voice. I mean, when Lion King is one of the first movies you remember watching as a child, you’re never going to forget the iconic voice of Mufasa. Or the scene where he’s brutally murdered in a stampede ordered by his brother in front of his infant son. THANKS FOR THAT TRAUMA I NEVER ASKED FOR, DISNEY. Simba trying to get Mufasa to wake up is a horror that is seared into my brain for life. FU SCAR. But literally, we went from the WISE words and guiding hand of Mufasa from beyond death to the owner of THE BEAST in the Sandlot, to the writer who tells Ray that PEOPLE WILL COME. (I realize in the order of things, that movie was made first, but I wasn’t old enough to watch it so I went in chronological order for MY childhood est.1991.) Also, sorry I wasn’t a Star Wars girlie, but I know him being Darth was a BFD too. I love that he lived a long life, but also I’m in my feels about this one. Let’s be in our feels together and watch a supercut of the greatest voice of all time. Legends never die.
Kinda old news, but this week this headline surfaced on People.com: Blake Lively Was ‘Upset’ by It Ends With Us Drama: ‘It Felt Very Out of Control to Her’ (Exclusive). YA THINK? So here’s the scoop for anyone who has a penis and didn’t follow the Colleen Hoover DRAMZ that went down at the beginning of August. Colleen Hoover is all the rage right now with females because she writes juicy novels that bitches can’t stop reading. She’s tackled love stories, creepy thrillers, and complicated trauma. The latter is what got made into a movie first, but knowing how she churns out books and clearly sells out to Hollywood, this will be the first of MANY adaptations from Hoove-dawg. Movie was shot in Jersey City (WHADDUP JOYSEY), Blake is the lead and plays a victim of domestic violence, it was MUCH chatted about while filming because they made her look absolutely disgusting and wear some of the frumpiest outfits I’ve ever seen. Her co-lead and abusive boyf is played by Justin Baldoni, who also directed the film and owns the rights to this book and its sequel. As the press tour began, it became VERY clear that Justin was separated from the rest of the cast. Blake was exclusively doing press with the other male co-lead (spoiler alert he doesn’t beat her and therefore comes across as the far superior choice to end up with) and even at the premieres, pretty much no one interacted with Justin. Then he started getting soupy in interviews, laying it on thicc that Blake should direct the next film. Around that time it comes out that he fat-shamed Blake while filming (she had popped a baby out like 5 mins before starting this movie) and that he was aggressive and a dick to many of the cast and it was a not so nice work environment. THEN Justin hires the same PR person that Johnny Depp hired when he was being DRAGGED through the mud from his toxic dump of a relationship with Amber Heard and suddenly the press turns on Blake. For weeks we heard about how Blake wasn’t taking the themes of this movie seriously, resurfacing old interview clips where she comes across as a real mean girl, and suddenly Justin looks like roses and Hollywood has cancelled Blake, a woman and 1/2 of a power couple who they’ve quite literally slobbered over for years now. My, my, how the turn tables.
Now here’s my take. I think Justin sucks. Where there’s smoke there’s fire and if your entire cast and crew is basically isolating you on your own red carpet, you probably were a real doucheroni of a director and no one wants to associate with you. As much as I’ve had a raging boner for Blake for my entire adult life, I think she sucked at promoting this movie too. She was VERY into the florals and cutesy aspect of it, and she definitely leaned hard into marketing it like it was this adorable rom-com and not like it’s the unfolding of an abusive relationship from start to finish. She was all WEAR YOUR BEST FLORALS AND GRAB ALL YOUR GIRLIES AND HIT THE THEATERS TO SEE ATLAS THAT SWOONWORTHY MAN HUNK! Don’t believe me? Here’s my also swoonworthy man hunk husband to approve this message! We get it, babe. So really, no one was 100% crushing it here and more importantly for a movie that was shoved down our throats for basically a whole calendar year, it was out of theaters 3 weeks later. Tell me how that makes sense? You want people to go back to the movies so you can keep making bigger budget films, yet you only want them to come opening weekend? How about you give us a chance to get to the crusty ole theaters in the dead of summer when we’re all vacationing and beachin it up and cherishing the sun, which is about to go into hibernation for the next 7 months. You done goofed up because you lost ticket sales from the women in my family who all wanted to go together Labor Day Weekend with our wine. And we WOULD’VE bought the large popcorn too, so HA. In summary, everyone involved with this movie can suck it. I’m sure this won’t be the last time we hear about this mess, which I spent several weeks telling everyone was fabricated to get people talking about the movie, and honestly I would’ve respected it more if that turned out to be true.
Yeah, I know how old I am. So old that I appreciated them putting Eminem as the opener so that if I chose to go to bed or felt horrified and ancient by the hoochies that followed, I could rest easy knowing I saw the only act I’d know. (Although, Fat Joe comin at 8:50 PM…did not have that on my VMA lottery. LEANBACK!) But guess what, being old makes for great comedy when judging these ‘fits. It’s like if you were to scroll through red carpet photos with your grandma. I gasped on more than one occasion.
PS People.com had 130 photos from this red carpet. ARE YOU KIDDING ME? About 70% of those photos were nobodies. I know because I scrolled all the way to the bottom in awe of the fact that just about anyone can strut an MTV carpet these days. Let’s relax on that shit. Stop trying to keep the Real Housewives of New Jersey relevant by inviting them. Here’s a v. small sampling of who was important and/or any outfit that got a visceral reaction from me. I’m not even sorting best or worst dressed because it’s like viewing a circus and you’ll know what I think about each outfit immediately anyway.
I love a c*nty hood moment. (Did I us the c-word correctly? Gays? LMK.) The fact that the hood is also somehow gloves may break my brain and I really respect the classy nude monochrome. No clue who this is, but she looks amaze.
I will never get over the fact that this is Tom Hanks’ son. What a goon. Ready to hit the ice and serve a mean knucklepuck OR go full blown motocrossed. Whatever he wants because he’s the son of Hollywood royalty.
Fat Joe ain’t fat no mo! Seems like it’s time for a rebrand. Ozempic Joe?
Snooki knows exactly where she came from and what made her a reality TV sensation and God Bless for her continuing to deliver even though she’s a full-grown adult and mom of three. Still crushing leopard print, a chunky heel, and big hair. RESPECT SNICKERS. RESPECT.
Oh are lollipops accessories now? The dress is Forever 21 and the lolli is Charms Blow Pop, strawberry flavor. Thx.
Hate to be the bearer of bad news, but you can never make a trench coat high fashion chic, it’s always going to give school shooter vibes.
Not a good enough reason to show your nip nops, Benson. Also, leave it to the guy who’s making waves for soulful power ballads that get me in my feels to dress like a real pervert ice dancer. I won’t be able to unsee this the next time I’m scream-singing Beautiful Things in my car.
This was a gasp. Not only is it hideous, but I don’t need a full-frontal view of your belly snake. Ya that’s right. I said it. I get it. You’re trying to dress like a moonman to manifest taking one home. (Assuming you’re nominated…no clue who you are.) There are FOR SURE cuter astronaut-esque lewks out there. And while we’re on the topic, because why not, these barrel pants that are becoming a thing deserved to be burned in hell. A pant that makes you look like you have elephantiasis of the leg?! JAIL. TY for coming to my Ted Talk.
Thanks for showing up in your jammies to shout WE THE BEST, DJ Khaled. Don’t eva change.
BIRD LADY. This is terrifying. No THX.
Honestly what the hell am I looking at here? Sweatband silk chic? Why is the top just drooping in front of her crotch like they forgot to cut it? Ugh. As THAT girl of the Olympics this year, I had higher expectations for her to pop off on this carpet and this is atrocious.
Enjoy your five mins, Shaboozester! You earned it with one of the catchiest hits of the summer. Cuffed jeans and camel toe boots aren’t really helping your case tho…
We get it girl, you’re hot and tan. I spent my summer at the beach securing a lifelong payment of tolls at the dermatologist’s office but you don’t see me rolling up to Jenks in my undies to show off my hard work. Judging by the high cut of these ‘roos, I imagine the reverse view is fully cheeked up. K E W L.
This is so thirsty for VS Angels that I’m embarrassed for her. Not only is she desp for pair of wings, but also this isn’t even flattering. Cone boobs, granny panties and a peep-toe heel? Barf all over me.
I love a leop print but FIRE ENGINE RED?! It’s a no from me, dawg.
This is the EXACT moonman ‘fit I was looking for earlier. See?! There is a way to get inspired by a moonman but not look like a bag of crap. It’s majestic and super flattering.
NO! GOD PLEASE! NO! NOOOOOOOO! Do NOT bring back to the sopping wet red carpet look that the Kardashians BEAT TO DEATH in 2016. DON’T DOOO ITTTTTTT.
Watch out for my medallion, my diamonds are reckless, feels like a MIDGET is hanging from my necklace! But seriously what is that goblin hanging off her neck? And more importantly, how many times did her right tit flop out?
Cyndi still killin it in her seventies. SEV-EN-TIES.
I’m not really a witchy girl, as you might’ve been able to tell from the fact that I cry when summer’s over and shove neon colors and heart-shaped sunglasses down your grillpiece, but I can appreciate that she’s pulling this off. It’s almost fall (for those who choose to recognize that season) and this spooky Morticia-lite is werking.
Sure, wear a full helmet but DON’T YOU DARE COVER UP THOSE ABS, bruh. Head to toe leather but the belly button MUST be on display.
Really only included this because I’m SHOCKED these two are still together. Never would’ve guessed a relashe that started with cheating (for both parties) and a newborn baby left behind would last this long. I guess the couple that wears matching black suits stays together.
Chica Karol G dressed like a literal hot cheeto.
Jack went for the 1994 dad specialty. Ill-fitted rust colored button down and black slacks. The woven belt really sent me. And then his wife took notes from Suki Waterhouse and also dressed like a crow. She looks great, he looks like he’s stressed from a day full of selling printer toner and yelled at the kids to turn off Fresh Prince and go do their homework.
Wearing a tie as a necklace with no shirt. Only Lenny. No notes.
Shawn looks hawt. And he knows it too. Probably felt he needed to show up stuntin his A game as not one but *two* scorned exes who he happened to mack on at the same time this year would be present and performing. And true to the drama, they’ve all got songs about each other.
Bout to make some enemies but I’m already over Chappell Roan and she’s been famous for like 30 seconds. Bitch came out of nowhere. All of a sudden two weeks ago I’m reading about Chappell Roan hating being famous and I literally said to myself WHO? If you’re making a big stink about being famous and you’ve been here for a hot minute, see yourself out. Or in your own words, GOOD LUCK, BABE! She loves wearing eccentric outfits like this renaissance faire specialty and between her super annoying songs, the costume gimmick, and her rage for getting attention whilst seeking attention…I’m all set. My hate grew three sizes when she went to accept New Artist wearing knight metals that were jangling and clearly uncomfortable and getting in her eyes as she tried to speak. Sure, you want to make a statement with your ‘fit but AT WHAT COST?!
She looks fabulous. Marilyn Monroe glam for a chick who sings about what her cooch tastes like. Flawless.
No.
Kneejerk reaction is that the bottom looks like a scarecrow. Now that I’ve typed that out I feel like it makes no sense. But I’m gonna double down. It’s the tie part. MEGAN THEE SCARECROW. Boom. Roasted.
Saved the best for last. JK I didn’t have any control on how these photos uploaded. I hated this, obviously. I took one look at her trying to be punk rock edgy in plaid and was like omg go home, nerd. Then honestly I saw what hot garbage everyone else was wearing and it grew on me. If we take out those ridiculous leather fingerless gloves that go up to her armpits, it looks good. And obviously, tune into the Swifties to see what this outfit and her mid-show change means because of course it is FULL OF EASTER EGGS.
Long-time lover and consumer of *most* things true-crime (living alone and immersing myself in brutal crimes don’t always go hand in hand), I don’t know that I’ve ever devoted an entire blog to a case. However, after guzzling down three series on the Laci Peterson murder, and having a hot take, I felt it was time to sear my thoughts into the internet forever and give you the scoop on each docu-series. I guess we could say this blog contains spoilers but if you didn’t hear about this murder that was legit on every news station and magazine cover 20 years ago then I’m concerned for you. Also feels a little odd to reference spoilers when it comes to a woman and her unborn child being murdered as this is real life and not the latest blockbuster. Basically, if you don’t want to dedicate any time to watching these three series, you can use this blog as a summary of takeaways, or you can use it as a teaser to decide if you want to watch. Either way, I think it goes without saying that the murder of a woman who was just beginning her life and her first baby is horrific and I’m not trying to downplay that fact or create some sort of sensational blog about it. I’m simply sharing my opinion based on what I’ve consumed, with some Salty Ju sarcasm sprinkled in.
Hulu (A&E): The Murder of Laci Peterson, 2017
This is the first doc I watched that flipped my whole perspective on this case and made me a Scott Peterson is innocent truther. I mean, I was literally bringing this murder up in casual Christmas party convo so that I could tell the unsuspecting victim of my doc-fueled chatter that Scott was wrongfully accused and we need to get him out of jail. Let it be known that I am ABSOLUTELY the perfect consumer of docs. I’m the type of person that will absorb the info presented to me in a documentary and not only think I’m an expert on the topic, but also believe every single thing that was said without question. Obviously every doc has an angle and is showing you the story they want you to see. But I’m usually flying too high on having all this newfound knowledge that I don’t even care about a controversial take being spoonfed to me. I remember literally ARGUING with someone that they didn’t know Scott like I did. From a 6-part series. I also spent a very obnoxious week acting like an aviation expert after seeing the doc about the missing Malaysian flight. Unrelated but totally related, I’m very aware of why I’m still single. Much like Scott….who got FRAMED by the court of public opinion to be a cheating dirtbag sociopath murderer.
Although I haven’t revisited this series since I originally watched it in 2019, I do remember really enjoying it (clearly) and would recommend it for anyone dipping their toe in the “did Scott really do it?” waters. It presented the counter-evidence in a direct way for dummies like me to be like hmm..it IS weird that I never knew they lived 5 mins away from a high-crime area. And hmm, that burglary that happened the same day directly across the street wasn’t reported on the cover of People magazine… My takeaway after watching this and what I’ll MOST definitely repeat throughout this blog as we’re talking about the same case being trotted out and dissected by 3 different directors/producers, is that at the end of the day, a man was convicted of a murder and sentenced to death with no DNA evidence or eyewitness testimony. The evidence that they did have was all circumstantial and YES IT LOOKS VERY, VERY BAD. His somewhat sociopathic void of all emotions demeanor from the minute he reported her missing to the day he was arrested, the extra-marital affair he had where he told this woman his wife was gone, driving very far away to go fishing and having homemade cement anchors and the bodies washing ashore where he was fishing that day. Do all of those things make Scott look like a stone cold killer? Yea, 100%. And that’s how he got convicted. Because I never heard a LICK about any of this other evidence to show that something else could’ve happened. So once you start to hear the evidence that isn’t all about Scott, it definitely makes you wonder if he actually did it. I’ll dive into that evidence more from the other doc because it’s fresher in my mind and I can’t remember what specifically was covered in this one or what has evolved since. But the bottom line is, knowing this other evidence was out there and not really as widely shared as the pieces condemning Scott, I would not be able to pin this murder on him beyond a reasonable doubt.
Netflix : American Murder – Laci Peterson, 2024
As it’s now the 20 year anniversary of this case, we must of course get more content on it. I had heard stirrings of Scott getting picked up by The Los Angeles Innocence Project this year and wasn’t surprised that we would be getting something new from him now that there might be fresh info in the case. I was, however, surprised that Laci’s family clearly wanted to put something out there too. Hollywood hasn’t quite figured it out yet as they regurgitate the same content over and over again but there is such a thing as too much repetition. This is a 20 year old case that was well-documented in the media and someone has been on death row for since it happened. We don’t need b2b docs from each family within a week of each other. Clearly Netflix cut a deal with Laci’s crew and Peacock cut a deal with Scott’s. And true to the case, they are very much dueling opinion docs. If you 100% believe without a doubt that Scott is the killer, watch this VERY heavy – handed HOW COULD HE DO THIS TO OUR BB GIRL Netflix doc. If you aren’t fully convinced, watch the Peacock special. If there’s one thing both sides can agree on it’s that the Modesto cops who were a part of both docs, certainly don’t shy away from camera time or a fat appearance paycheck. And anytime there is any comment or accusation that they perhaps dropped the ball on some things or honed in on Scott prematurely, putting blinders up to any contrary evidence to that theory, they deny it completely and say they’re confused as to why there’s even a question of if he did it. Not that I expect two detectives to publicly admit any wrongdoing with such a highly publicized case, but also, they don’t need to keep doing interviews about it either.
This was a fluff piece, which Laci’s family has every right to make in attempts to remind us all that she was real and her life was taken. But other than more glimpses into who she was as a person, there was really no new information about the murder presented. The interviews included Laci’s mom, a few of her gal pals, Scott’s sister & sister in law, other woman Amber Frey, and the cops. Home footage was used of Laci, lots of photographs, lots of stories about how she lit up a room (there’s a reason there’s a meme about that phrase. You light up a room and you’re as good as dead. Nothin to worry about for me, which is comforting.) The timeline and circumstantial evidence of the case is laid out. You get walked through everything again and cop interviews as well as news footage from that time is all used. So if you’re not familiar with the case or don’t remember the deets, this is all a good refresher but keep in mind that it’s presented by the police who wanted to nail Scott from night one. I don’t care how comfortable you are as a cop but I’ve seen enough true crime docs to know that the interrogation footage is always included and that cop ALWAYS looks like a total dickbag. I’ve never seen an interview room clip where the cop isn’t lying or trying to coerce the person to say something or admit something. It’s infuriating. If I’m ever arrested you bet your nip nops I’m not squealing a sentence other than I want a lawyer. The way they take advantage of people who think they’re just helping by answering some questions is cringeworthy to say the least. At one point I believe the detective even said why don’t you take a polygraph, I wont be able to use it for anything but it’ll rule you out, it’s no big deal. Oh yea, just take a lie detector test that I will 100% pin your guilt to! Anyway, I got off track with my F the po-lice rant. This doc also includes some insider info from Laci’s mom and close friends that there were some red flags about Scott from the start. He seemed obsessed with showing off and love bombing her. They got married young and Laci was a little nervous about marrying him. Supposedly he told her he never wanted kids and then “changed his mind.” Just typical narcissistic a*hole behavior from a young hot shot. Again, you’ll never catch me saying Scott’s a cool dude. He sucks. He was for sure a shit husband who had no business being married or becoming a dad. But does that mean he’s a murderer? If you really want to get deep, I think he was way too pretty boy to be a murderer. Seems like the type that wouldn’t even change his own oil so he’s for sure not offing his wife and dumping her into the sea. Doesn’t want to get his hands dirty, might mess up his backswing. ~*~ but that’s just my opinion ~*~
Peacock: Face to Face with Scott Peterson, 2024
When they advertised this as the first time Scott would do an interview in 20 years, I nearly shit my pants in anticipation. August 20th couldn’t come fast enough. This was it, my king of innocence who I’ve ridden hard for since 2019 was going to get out in front of it and give us all a reason to believe he’s been rotting on death row for NOTHIN. And then I watched episode one. And holy shit this was a letdown. So much so, that instead of tearing through all three episodes, it took me almost a week to get through it. Honestly, he should’ve stayed off camera. There’s a reason his lawyer didn’t have him testify. Boy does NOT give good interview. Which we obviously know from 2004 when he did a media tour and made everyone hate him 18 billion times harder. He’s monotone, he shows no emotion, and he can’t seem to explain away any of the things that make him look like a murderer. Which…was the whole point of interviewing him. The things he said, and did, and lied about, and the shady activities in and around his boat. He didn’t have a concrete explanation for literally ANYTHING. If I were him I’d be bringing Heather from RHOSLC energy to these interviews with the filmmaker.
real housewives of salt lake city heather gay receipts! 👏 proof! 👏 timeline! 👏 screenshots! 👏 fucking! 👏 everything! 👏 meme reaction video pic.twitter.com/OAVRWyd759
His standard answer for everything was some variation of, “that’s crazy that they said that or thought that.” Well that’s how you ended up getting sentenced to death, Scotty boy. I don’t know if he’s truly a psychopath or if he just doesn’t present well and has a lot of internal strife, but keeping him out of this would’ve made this doc much more convincing. Because again, I was convinced once before and reminded once again, that there is other evidence out there that was never presented at trial or was dismissed or explained away by the police. The biggest one being A BURGLARY THAT HAPPENED ACROSS THE STREET FROM LACI’S HOUSE THE DAY SHE WENT MISSING. I’m sorry but that is not coincidence.
And since you’ve been patiently waiting, I’ll hit on some of the other pieces of evidence that were buried or explained away by police. The police interviewed a neighbor who saw their dog wandering around with its leash on and put her in their backyard at like 10ish in the morning. That ONE interview created the entire timeline for Laci’s murder. They refused to hear anything that countered this theory and decided that because this woman found the dog at 10am, Laci was already dead. There were MULTIPLE eyewitnesses that saw Laci walking the dog after this time. There were witnesses to the burglary that occurred across the street that morning and ID’ed non-white men with a brown van. Two whites came forward and confessed to the burglary and said they absolutely had nothing to do with Laci’s disappearance. Also claimed they did the act after Christmas, which wouldn’t have been possible as Laci’s street was storming with cops and media at that time. No one is pulling off a home invasion in that environment and obviously it wasn’t these guys who did it or at least they weren’t the only ones who did it, they might’ve just been fall guys. In more eyewitness accounts, a man and his wife saw a pregnant woman being pulled into a van and what looked like a struggle. A correctional officer overheard a conversation with inmates that had to do with the burglary and Laci and tried to report it multiple times and they never followed up with him from the tip line. A burned van fitting the description of the burglary was found days later and the police tested it, concluded it wasn’t involved and then were done with it. Same thing with a homemade anchor found in the water near where the bodies washed up. They literally threw the anchor back into the water. Laci’s very specific diamond watch that Scott gifted her showed up at a pawn shop days after her disappearance. Do you remember hearing about any of this evidence? NOPE YOU SURE DON’T BECAUSE THEY EITHER OUTRIGHT BURIED IT OR SAID IT WAS STUPID. I mean literally, the Modesto cops flat out (in both docs) said this is all stupid, Scott did it. They didn’t have any sort of understanding as to why we (Scott Innocence Truthers) would be like well, this is a little fishy and seems like legit evidence to present alongside the prosecution’s evidence. Scott’s family had hired private investigators and there was a reporter formerly with ABC I believe who also became invested in the case over the years and was looking into all of this evidence and digging deeper. The biggest thing that made me think twice was when it was pointed out that police shared Scott’s alibi on day 1 or 2 of Laci’s disappearance at a public press conference. If you had her or had her body, you now know exactly where to dump it so that it gets pinned to Scott. And honestly, I never once thought about that but it’s NOT OUTLANDISH! You share the exact area he’s fishing on that day and all of the deets and that would be a prime opportunity for whoever killed her to get away Scott-Free.
So anyway, as it stands now, Scott is no longer on death row, and the Innocence Project is trying to make appeals for some of the new evidence to be considered/tested. Unfortunately, they were denied the right to get DNA testing on a TON of evidence, which according to this doc was unheard of. No one has ever really been denied so I don’t know how hopeful this whole thing really is. But they did get approved for testing of one thing I believe, and if Scott’s DNA isn’t on that one thing, he’s out of prison (according to his sister in law who became a lawyer after he was convicted so she could help get him out of jail.) This is definitely the type of case where you’re firmly for or against Scott and both docs had a mixture of the vitriol that people feel toward him and how they believe in their bones that he’s a killer and the ‘he cheated on his wife and kinda sucks but that doesn’t make him a murderer’ side. If there’s one thing I know for sure, they will continue to push out content about this with updates via The Innocence Project. After being somewhat let down by these two recent dueling docs, I’m not sure if I’ll be foaming at the mouth to see anything more on this topic, but I will be interested to see how things progress with them trying to get him out based on this defense evidence that was never presented twenty years ago before a group of 12 jurors decided he should die. And of course, I wouldn’t be a comedy blog if I didn’t mention the obvious…Scott looks pretty damn good for being in prison for half of his life now. In an MFK sitch, I’d probably F him. Definitely wouldn’t M him as we’re not 1000% convinced he wouldn’t kill me, and I’ll leave the K to the US gov if he ends up back on death row. *Note: all of this is a joke and very, very unserious and I mean no disrespect but also I’m here to entertain and if you just read a full true-crime ramble from me, you deserve to end it with a laugh.**Double Note: If he flipped that hat backwards it’d be on like Donkey Kong.
Oh, did you think this annual Jersey adventures recap blog was going to stop at year two? That’s cute. If anything, I’ve upped the ante by creating GardenStateGoofin, an account SPECIFICALLY for all of my Jerseylicious dalliances. All jokes aside, I will make a Grade A effort to be much briefer in this year-long summary of activities than I have in years past. Key word being effort. Sure, I can’t sit still and if I don’t have an activity planned for a weekend my head nearly explodes, but also, I get that not every activity is worthy of a never-ending ramble. That being said, while the stuff I share through my content on IG/TikTok is all positive vibes because no one wants to be tagged in a “your place stinks” post, you know you can count on me to keep it real over here and serve the tea. Let’s dive in to year 3 in Jersey, year 1 living in a beach town!*
*If I may quickly address this, obviously the biggest difference this past year was that I finally achieved my dream of living at the beach. And if you read my Side Hustlin Hack blog, you know it hasn’t been easy to maintain the beach lifestyle in this economy. I have to be both a penny pincher and work multiple jobs to hang onto this dream for dear life. So, I just wanted to say for realsies how grateful I am to be here and I’ve tried not to take any of it for granted because I also know what it’s like to get laid off and have to move back home. I’ve spent a lot of time this year appreciating not only the town I live in but also the condo I’ve landed as well – can’t beat my peaceful balcony view of boats passing through the canal! Basically romanticizing every little thing that I do like I’m the main character of a romance novel has become my way of life and I’ve loved it so much and also would love it if my romantic co-star would enter stage left now and whisk me and my beach cruiser right into the sunset. Kthxbyeeeeeeee!
Last Swim at The Jersey Shore.
Please mark Aug 13th on your calendars as the triumphant day that I returned to the ocean to overcome my recent fear of swimming here and also the traumatic experience of almost dying and declaring that I’ll never go back in. A real rollercoaster of emotions on this day. I have revealed to many friends (and probably all of you at some point too) that I’ve never been afraid of swimming in the ocean, but I’m also not overly confident about it either. I grew up vacationing in Jersey and Cape Cod and always went swimming with my Dad and older sister (my middle sister quit the ocean before she reached double digits when she learned fish poop and pee in it.) I won’t say I’m a strong swimmer by any means, but I floated around and enjoyed a dip or two on the occasional summer vacay. In 2018 I went on vacay to Wildwood and was taught how to boogie board and pee in the ocean. One small step for man, one GIANT leap for The Ocean Ju. Here’s proof of me being a Jersey Shore ocean lover back in the day (and an awkward bird, sick dino arms, lil Ju):
Upon moving here, I went in by myself with some rough surf post-hurricane, got womped a few times, and was like eh, I’m all set. Psyched myself right out and from August of 2021 to August of 2022, I never went in further than my shins and would just do a little splish splash whore’s bath to cool down. Let me also share that in that year span I took trips to Jamaica and Siesta Key where the water is calm, warm, and pretty clear and had no issues doing a nice salt water soak with my dad. It was just the Jersey Shore that had me on the ocean fritz. Where the water is not clear, the waves can be pretty rough, and I’m by myself 98% of the time so if I were to struggle or drown no one would be looking out for me. Sure, there’s lifeguards but also they’re more focused on the children rather than the woman in her thirties who should know how to swim by now. So my friend took me to the beach on August 13th and said, you’re gonna get in the water. And I accepted this challenge, mostly because the only option for peeing was a disgusting port-a-potty. I’d rather die. The first round in was lovely. I peed, I floated, I got an actual cool-down at the beach instead of just melting on my chaise lounge for hours. I came back and took this v. excited selfie as proof and sent it to my whole family to say I DID IT! I SWAM IN THE OCEAN! (Similar to me screaming I’M DOING IT the first time I peed in the ocean as a fully grown adult.)
The over-confidence was what killed me. I approached round 2 like an old pro. Like I’d been doing this every day and not like I just went in the ocean for the first time in years. I got too big for my britches and flew too close to the sun. I was floating and whizzing away and then I felt like maybe the waves were starting to get bigger than I was ready for. So I decided to exit earlier than my friend. I swam to shore and just as I was standing up a wave came at me full force and knocked me down, pulled my bottoms down to my ankles and rolled me underwater. Was I held down for 5 seconds or 5 minutes? Hard to say but my life flashed before my eyes and I thought about Annemarie in Blue Crush hitting her head off the rock and I was like well this is it for me, hope my friend enjoys finding me dead in the water with my bare ass in the air. As soon as I could, I resurfaced, pulled my bottoms back up and skedaddled back to my chair to act calm, cool & collected and pretend like I meant to do that and definitely didn’t just think I was going to die bottomless in 1 inch of water. Obviously, we are done with the ocean. (In New Jersey ONLY…I dipped in Florida again this spring where the waves don’t try to kill you repeatedly on 10 second timer. )
After being too afraid to swim in the ocean for 2 years, today I went all the way in and was so proud of myself. So naturally on the way out that salty son of a bitch had to humble me by rolling me through a wave and stripping me of my bikini bottoms. I am done with the sea.
This was originally suggested to me from a guy on hinge, and it IS an adorable date night idea, but that’s clearly not the journey I was meant to take here. I kept an eye on their schedule for the summer and when a movie I hadn’t seen yet popped up, I went…solo of course. Parking is a real bitch in Asbury and I’d say that’s the only downside to this. Otherwise, catching Top Gun 2 on the roof overlooking Asbury Park with an ocean breeze on a summer night Labor Day Weekend was a top-notch experience. Tickets were around $12, I brought my own beach chair, blanket, & tumbler of wine and sprung for fresh popcorn. Would definitely go back if I had interest in seeing another one of their movies. Could’ve for sure done without the couple who showed up late, pulled chairs together directly in front of me and unloaded a feast of Chinese food. Not only did they block my carefully curated perfect view, but their food stunk and they were annoying. If you get the vibe that people ruin my experiences more often than anything else, you’d be absolutely correct because we need a new plague.
Lobster Roll from Point Lobster (Point Pleasant)
I really want to love lobster and I try it every single time thinking this will be the time that I do, and it always ends up tasting fishy to me. Point Lobster’s Lobster Roll was recommended to me because of the copious amounts of butter they use. I’m never going to say no to anything dripping in butter. So at Point’s Seafood Festival last fall, I budgeted the $20 for this teeny tiny roll and deleted it in seconds. Can confirm, it is delicious. Can also confirm I threw twenty dollars away on something that was equivalent (filling-wise) to eating a few oyster crackers.
Sea Hear Now (Asbury Park)
Although I’m not a music festival girlie, and I certainly would never spend hundreds of dollars for two full business days of music when I don’t know half the bands, I was given the opp to sit on a patio adjacent to the festival to hear the headliner, which happened to be The Killers on night 1 of Sea Hear Now last summer. I wasn’t able to see the stage, but I could hear it now and when faintly off in the distance I heard the opening notes of Mr. Brightside, I asked everyone around me if they were playing that on the loudspeakers at the restaurant to warm up the crowd. To which everyone replied: no idiot, that’s The Killers starting their set and WHAT A BOLD MOVE. Honestly that’s why I thought it was the radio because who the hell OPENS with their biggest hit that everyone wants to hear?! Obviously a hipster band that wants to weed out the fairweather fans up front. I enjoyed singing along to the distant music, then I enjoyed even more double fisting for the rest of the evening, taking a bunch of drunk videos of people leaving the festival at the end of the night and then trying to become a bouncer at the next bar we went to. I think that’s about as close as I’ll ever get to attending a music festival and I’m good with that. I can’t imagine paying to have strangers crowding my personal space on a sweaty beach as they mosh to the whitest party song known to man.
9/11 Memorial (NYC)
I know NY is not NJ…but, the city was a cool 6 hour drive from where I grew up, so realistically, it took me moving here to actually have a lot of NYC experiences, therefore I’ll lump them in. I’m not a museum gal by any means, but I had always wanted to check out the 9/11 Memorial and Museum because my perspective of that day is WILDLY different and far removed from anyone who lives here. I wanted to see and hear the stories I missed the first time around and really view it through the lense of an adult rather than the 10 year old who saw some pictures here and there but never really fully grasped the weight of that day. My dad agreed to go with me and I can confidently say neither one of us would recommend this to anyone else. It was overwhelming at the very least. There was SO much to take in, and really it wasn’t a great setup to be able to consume everything that was being presented. The museum starts with the history and a lot of structural information about the World Trade Center itself, which wasn’t really interesting to me but not really having an idea of what was ahead, we took our time reading and going through this.
You kind of wind your way down into what is essentially the basement where all of the personal effects and debris and stories are. And there are SO many, obviously. So not only do you feel kind of trapped down there (a feeling I imagine was thought out when designing this setup) but it also feels like you’ll never resurface. There’s audio clips playing on loop of newscasters reporting, emergency services calls, actual voicemails from the victims, etc, etc, etc. It’s jarring and sensory overload and that’s just the sounds. On top of that there’s things to look at and LOTS to read. Each piece has its own plaque with a story. As this place was OVERFLOWING with tourists, you can imagine how stressful it is to stand and try to read something in size 12 font on a placard as people push you to also get closer and read it or what I noticed a lot of people doing, stepping in front of me to take a picture of the plaque as if they’re going to sit down later and go through the museum on their phone. It sucked and I was over it only about halfway through consuming it. I wasn’t retaining any of the actual stories because they were everywhere I looked and it was too hard to actually process anything. Then on top of feeling claustrophobic and like I didn’t know when we would come up for air, Apple decided to play a mean prank and do a test “emergency notification” while we were in there, which means everyone’s phones emitted that terrifying alarm sound at the same time and I 100% panicked and was convinced we were experiencing a 9/11 style attack of the remains of the original. So yeah, all in all, not for me.
Concert at Madison Square Garden (NYC)
Nothing brings you back up after reliving the most catastrophic terrorist attack on American soil than hitting up MSG for the first time to see John Mayer tickle those guitar strings for the second time. Even though Den and I were sitting basically up in the rafters (twas all I could afford), it was still a great venue and John Mayer knows how to put on a damn show. It was his acoustic tour and he made sure to remind everyone in the room that he knows his way around a musical instrument. Unfortunately, the tool behind us wanted to also remind all of us that he thinks he’s a phenomenal singer as he ONLY sang harmony to John for the entire show, trying to impress whatever date he conned into going with him. I hope she deleted his number immediately afterward. It was on the ole bucket list to catch Billy Joel at his MSG residency, but wouldn’t you know he decided to end it last month (selfish of him, TBH) making his ticket prices even MORE outrageous than they normally were this past year since everyone knew his time was coming to a close. THANKS A LOT, WILLIAM.
Ocean County Park (Lakewood)
You’ll pretty much only ever catch me exploring a new park during fall when I wanna peep the shit outta those leaves. Now that I’m in a different area, I relied on google to give me a park that *didn’t* consist only of hiking trails (paved path or I don’t go) and this was the winner. So I took Chuck on a rare weekend it wasn’t downpouring in October so we could appreciate some sassy orange leaves. Well, apparently we were way past peak and the showings were grim. Don’t know that I’d ever head back to this park, mostly because as we were getting in the car, I was approached by a stranger danger who seemed to have been loitering around the parking lot waiting to chat it up with someone and I was the clear winner. I got this man’s life story in a very brief amount of time and was also swindled into taking his number because as a millennial, my cellphone is never not in my hand, which really screws me over for any “oh I don’t have it with me” or similar lies to get out of exchanging numbers with someone you absolutely never wish to speak to again. So that’s how I found myself learning that he lives right across the street from the park and vowing to never step foot in this park again for as long as I live. He also did indeed text me after the fact. I may be eternally single, but I really know how to attract lonely old men! So I’ve got that going for me, which is nice.
A day trip spot that has often popped up in my searches, I trekked down there for one of my many gov holidays in November. It’s one of those classic “stepped back in time” little cluster of shops, restaurants, and outdoor space. Immediately felt like I forgot my bonnet at home and should be churning butter.
Instead, I took a billion photos, made some unnecessary purchases in the little boutiques and then saddled up to the bar for a solo wine tasting of course. Where I then got *just* buzzed enough to buy a $30 bottle of wine to take home for Thanksgiving. #SupportLocal. Did I personally fund the Village Greene that day? Probably. It was an adorable little fall excursion full of weird chicken/duck hybrid animals trolling around and also it would’ve been 18 million times more enjoyable if I had a buddy (read: huz) to share it with. As my therapist likes to remind me…both things can be true. Is this the theme of my life right now? Ya duh. PS I made the sole cashier at the florist leave the store to take photos of me with these wings. I apologized maybe 800 times for doing so. We literally had to wait for customers to leave so it wasn’t a free-for-all. But look how snatched I look in that skort poppin that leg with those giant wings? WORTH IT.
Seemed odd to be heading to the Count Basie to see a comedian who I discovered through TikTok, but those were the circumstances. Much like Smithville, this theater is a relic of the past and very historic-looking. My friend and I sat in the last row because that’s what $14 tickets the day of show will get you. We laughed at Trey Kennedy singing and mocking how stupid people are with a special side-show of the stupid woman in front of us hurling all over the floor then bouncing, leaving the cleanup on aisle barf for us remaining survivors of her carnage to manage. It was an evening I’ll never forget.
Cape May Christmas Parade
If a town is going to go hard in the paint for Christmas, I’m going to do my best to be present for the occasion. My godparents go to the Cape May Christmas Parade every year, and my mom and I decided to join this year. I’ve been to Cape May before at Christmas time so I knew they turned their adorable Victorian downtown into a festive dream, but I hadn’t caught the parade, where people put out beach chairs midday to save their spot and then just drink and eat as floats and dancers roll by all night long. As much fun as it is cheering for the local VFW’s decorated pick-up truck, gallivanting around Cape May drinking, eating, and shopping with my family was the real highlight of this excursion. Also scream singing Taylor Swift at Carney’s with a total stranger. And getting into an Uber that for sure had puke all over the door. And spending a night in the 5-star Sandbox Motel of Wildwood.
When we checked in earlier in the day, the owner/receptionist/manager/party enthusiast was for SURE still drunk, there were a bunch of people loitering by the front door and he said everyone was cool and they’re all regulars, so it’s a fun time and things tend to get loose with this crew. He referenced drinking no less than 10 more times during our check-in, handed us our key and just as we were about to let ourselves in, a kid comes RUNNING up to make sure we had a table outside of our room. In December. Once I saw all of our fellow motel homies sitting at their outdoor tables smoking cigs (or not cigs), I understood the company we were keeping at the Sandbox. We were invited several times to mix it up in Room 5 where everyone ends up at the end of the night. Committed to the bit, I was willing to do so but when we returned at midnight, Room 5 was dark. We outpartied the degenerates. Please enjoy the tour of our room, the swan towel really sent me.
Now here’s the movie theater production of the same 24 hours. See how easy it is to paint a completely different picture than getting sauced in a Santa hat and sharing a bed in a questionable motel with your mom?! That’s some Scorcese magic, BB.
Bluebird Farm Alpacas (Peapack)
December is when I started GardenStateGoofin and thus upped the ante with my content. My very first video was Cape May and I really leaned in hard to the cinematic feature on my new iPhone 14. This video is no different. Also, #grateful for the 60 degree December which made it a real joy to beebop and take a stroll with alpacas. This experience was absolutely a one and done. I learned MUCH later that there’s an alpaca farm in the town next to me and I really didn’t need to roadtrip an hour to kick it with farm animals, but I feel like it made the experience more authentic. My friend and I learned some alpaca fun facts, then we had ample time to kick it with them in their pens with bags full of food where my friend showed how seamlessly skilled she was at grabbing a selfie with these majestic creatures and every time I pulled my camera out near one they dodged me like total a*holes. Some of us are just more gifted at selfie’ing with animals than others. If I sound jelly it’s cause I am. Then came the walk and walk is a generous term, folks. Imagine walking your dog but it’s 150 lbs and just wants to eat grass and tell you to F off. We walked maybe 4 ft with them. The activity should’ve been called “bring an alpaca to eat grass and force it to pose for photos.” But now I can say I walked an alpaca and I have the piccies and vids to prove it and THAT’S REALLY ALL THAT MATTERS. TYSM JUNO AND PANCHO. PALS 4 LIFE.
Christmas at Palmer Square (Princeton)
My patio is bigger than this.
Hey, here’s the tea. If you ever see on ANY list that one of the top Christmas cities in New Jersey is Princeton, you tell that list to buzz right off. I lived it, I saw it, it’s NOT. They paint pictures of ice skating and a giant Christmas tree and cozy little boutiques just like NYC. Well there’s only one Big Apple twin in Jersey and we all know it’s Freehold. Princeton has a 2 block radius of adorable-ness before it turns into a ghost-town and within that little square, there WAS a big tree, but that was about it. Their ice skating rink was embarrassing. My friend and I committed to trying out ice skating for the first time, picturing that it was going to be like Rockefeller and when we laid eyes on the iced over sandbox that they were charging people to skate on, we laughed out loud. No joke it took us 30 minutes of circling to even find it tucked behind a hotel, barely visible. I mean if we got on that ice we could’ve touched each end with arms outstretched. Big YIKES to Princeton’s Christmas game. That didn’t stop me from making an adorbs false advertising video because I wasn’t about to waste a trip with no content and I was trying to build my account. If there’s a lesson to be learned here it’s obviously don’t believe everything you see on social media, including mine.
Last Wave Brewing (Point Pleasant)
Full disclosure, I had been to Last Wave before, but I’ve never walked there with Charlee from my home. I chose the first snowstorm of the year to do so. Charlee gets exercise, I get to take blizz photos to capture the ONLY time snow is beautiful, and then I treat myself to a beer halfway through the walk. We all win. Charlee didn’t really though because there’s nothing she hates more than being in a place full of people and being leashed away from them. Homegirl is real social and just wants to be able to greet all at her leisure. Breweries may be dog friendly but they’re not down with letting your dog roam free and honestly I think they should reconsider (for Charlee only.) I awkwardly stood near a barrel directly on top of the bathroom because the place was packed and spent the next hour trying to keep Charlee from pulling me toward people while also spilling my beer from her jerky movements. It was SUPER fun. Brewery is great, my dog in a brewery? Not suh much. Tough stuff, lesson learned. S/O to the woman behind the bar who came over and intervened at one point because a group of touchy kids wouldn’t leave Chooch alone and she noticed how uncomfy she seemed. Girls supporting girls.
Hot Chocolate Walk (Red Bank)
Snitches get Stiches
This was advertised as a Hot Chocolate Walk and stupid me pictured Saratoga Chowderfest and deemed it a can’t-miss. You can tell it’s the dead of winter and peak seasonal depression when I’m willing to drive 45 minutes for drinking hot chocolate outside. If you’ve noticed a theme of me latching onto something and over-hyping it, you know what comes next. There was no Hot Chocolate Walk. In a small boutique that sold jewelry and art, we met a polar bear who (I swore I wouldn’t tell anyone but the statute of limitations has passed) talked to us and told us they had free hot chocolate inside. We got a lukewarm cup of Swiss Miss after pretending to be interested in making a purchase there. No one else was serving hot chocolate. No one was even outside. It was a true ghost town. Be better, Red Bank.
American Dream Mall / TILT Museum (East Rutherford)
Waited for my girlypops to get here for the drive into North Jersey for their version of the Mall of America. The mall itself is a mall, there’s fancy wings with stores that are above our pay grade, and then stores you would see at any other mall. They had a whole floor that was decked out like a winter wonderland which I creamed my jeans for. Majestic. An ice skating rink, a ferris wheel, a water park, legoland, etc. Those attractions all came with their own admission fee and we decided to go for the TILT Museum instead, which is a 3-D art attraction within our budget. You take a spin around (doesn’t take super long) and they tell you where to stand to take a picture or video of you interacting with the art. For an Insta-hooch like me, this was a dream. Since lil Kenz is an insta-hooch in training, she was on board as well. I mean, honestly if you don’t want a photo surfing a hot dog over NYC, you have a giant dump in your pants. It was a fun, unique activity and I definitely recommend it to anyone looking for something different to do.
Wish Upon a Jar (Point Pleasant)
Just down the street from me is an adorbsies little spot where you pick out your pottery, pay for the item, and then embrace your inner Picasso and paint away. You can bring your own food or beveraginos (adult or otherwise) and let the creative juices flow. It was the perfect activity for Kenz to get crafty, but to be perfectly honest, us adults found it incredibly soothing and I’d do it again anytime. Here’s our masterpieces.
Bury the Hatchet (Freehold)
I told my friends that I wanted to go to a gun range and we settled for weapons that can still harm you but probably won’t kill you. Whatever. Buncha pussies. Really it was just an opportunity for me to try something, be bad at it, then immediately be over it and more thoroughly entertained by demanding they take photos of me with the neon signs. Classic Ju. I still was a good sport and tossed every weapon at least one time before giving up. Still think this is better than bowling, but probably not as great as poppin caps.
Celebrated the first random hot day (followed by 2 full months of cold and rain before the sun made an appearance again) by having a good ole fashioned girls day at the newest brewery. This spot has the perfect outdoor space and if we had dogs with a quarter of the energy, probably would’ve been calm and pleasant. But alas, our girlypups are bursting with youthful exuberance and must sniff everything and everyone. So it was a Sunday of managing the dogs and managing to still catch a quick buzz in the sunshine. The owners were a real dream and tolerated us definitely overstaying our welcome. They’ve even continued to support Goofin on social media, which I quickly learned is the difference between a business I visit one time, and a business I’ll become loyal AF to. As someone in the social media game, it doesn’t take a lot of effort to acknowledge content when you’re tagged (a like, comment, or even share if you’re feeling generous.) Yet the amount of free promo I’ve given places and they still ignore it completely. DEAD TO ME. So when someone goes the extra mile to show some love for my efforts, they’re a friend for life. Tall Oaks being one of them.
Deep Cut Gardens (Middletown)
Really jumped the gun on Deep Cut because I was so hard up for bloom season. It wasn’t a TOTAL waste because the greenhouse part is all-seasons, but the exterior of this place was grim as hell in mid-March. I made a vow to go back in the summer when the outdoor garden would be poppin but honestly nothing sounded less appealing than giving up a good beach day to drive an hour to a garden. So, it is what it is. Did it bring me a lot of joy to see bright florals on a cold, windy spring day? Sure did.
Ocean Casino Resort (Atlantic City)
We saw some shit at this Dunkin.
For my birthday this year, my sister and I heavily researched a number of weekend destinations driving distance for us both and after seeing the prices of those destinations and doing a quick reality check, we concluded that a Thursday night in AC was more aligned with our income bracket. Plus, my sister had never experienced AC and thought it was glam like Palm Springs, and I REALLY needed to be front row for the glass to shatter on that rosy theory. Witnessing her disgust as we stood in a Dunkin Donuts in downtown AC next to several homeless people AND got hit up for cash mid-breakfast was v satisfying. Unfortunately for my long-standing birthday curse, the weather was freezing monsoon in NJ and tropical summer breeze in Syracuse. ‘Cause of course. Kinda put a damper on my carefully crafted research of which places we could hit up along the boardwalk on my birthday bender as we were stuck exclusively in Ocean Casino Resort for the night unless we wanted to literally blow into the ocean. The resort itself is very nice. It’s brand new, so there’s only *some* suspicious stains on the carpeting rather than the entire place smelling like a stale cigarette and looking like a 50 year old jizz stain.
However, the crowd was dead as dead could be on a Thursday night a week before MDW. It’s not like we were there on a Monday in January. I mean I was wearing a walking sparkly billboard that said BUY ME A DRINK and not one person offered. Got a lot of shouted HAPPY BIRTHDAY’s which is good for NOTHIN. Get me drunk or get the hell out of my face. We played the slots, had some drinks, ate the finest cuisine (Wahlburgers), and then excitedly got into our matching espresso martini jam-jams and ate pringles until we fell asleep.
A Shore Summer Night with a Bunch of Mascots
For as much as I babble stories on every medium imaginable, I don’t know that I’ve ever written out the Mr. & Mrs. Met saga. In my first year as The Jersey Ju, I made it to Citi Field for the first time and declared that I absolutely needed to meet the Mr & Mrs and my godfather informed me that’s reserved for the people who fork over the big bucks for suites or private parties. So I settled for watching them trumpet all over the dugout when Diaz came out and immediately zoned in on the fact that Mrs. Met is draggin a wagon and can twerk like nobody’s biz. I proceeded to go to Citi 3 or 4 more times that year and never laid eyes on those giant bobbing baseballs up close and personal. Year 2, just after I published last year’s blog, I hit up my last game of the season with the whole fam dam. Lurking in one of the clubs we had access to because my sister is VIP, my dad caught wind of the iconic duo cutting through to their next excursion. My dad was overserved to say the least at this game, and had no problem flinging himself at them and asking if they’d take a picture with me. I would fawn over how my dad made my dreams come true, but he then wedged himself into said picture while chomping on a soft pretzel and I had to crop him out because he was also ruining my dreams. So was Mrs. Met, who saw Mr. Met stop for a photo, and bootscooted right over to the escalator, giving me a swan wave as she descended. With that gliding exit, she became my white whale.
On opening day this year I said I was coming for her. My first game of the season was dollar dawg night and in between jamming franks into my furter hole, I caught Mr & Mrs making the rounds at the top of a section. I ran right up to Mrs. Met, and said CAN I GET A SELFIE? She nodded her head yes and as I snapped the pic she walked away. ICE COLD. Now it was personal. I was going to get this twatwaffle if it was the last thing I did. Luckily for me, the happiest couple in baseball made a special trip to my backyard probably to drum up some fans because the Mets were stinkin up the joint. And I said COME TO MAMA! I rounded up a crew (someone I had never hung out with before, always good to have a brand new friend get a front row seat to your lunacy) and declared to my loved ones that if she gave me the Heisman one more time I’d swan dive right into the ocean. Within the first half hour of the event, I caught her going into the back for a cool-down and basically screamed right in her bulbous face asking for a picture. She obliged because she probably thought I’d burn the place down if she didn’t. And she was not wrong. And then I texted that picture to literally everyone who had been following this saga and said I GOT HER. And that folks, is how you turn taking a picture with a mascot into an Olympic sport. I had theories about how Mr. Met was a man of the people and Mrs. Met is probably supposed to act harder to get. The mascot handler really had a good laugh at that one. He was also probably entertaining me for fear of my mental stability. Whatevs. I got what I wanted.
Not pictured: Mrs. Met on her escape route, Partially pictured: my dad’s arm and foot as he slides in mid-chompIt was 40 degrees that night but it felt like -40 when she pulled this move.My Queen.
After reaching the summit of a 3 year long quest, I was euphoric, and it was a summer night down the shore and that’s how I found myself accidentally having the exact classic Jersey Shore bar experience I was looking for when I went to Bar A 2 years ago. And those are the BEST kind of nights. I drowned myself in cucumber vodka, I danced to my favorite 90’s cover band and told them after their set that I was their biggest fan in a definitely creepy way, I complimented some guy wearing a shirt that said “stuffing wieners in faces since 2005”, I got a dirty look from his girlfriend, and I kicked it with an entire group of dressed up characters loudly wondering if any of them were attractive underneath their sweaty giant heads. I distinctly remember screaming to my gal pals “we should do this every weekend this summer!” And then I woke up the next morning with an anvil on my head and looked at how much money I spent and never did that again for the rest of the summer.
Beach Yoga at Tiki Bar (Point Pleasant)
This is more me patting myself on the back than anything else. Back in January, my dad and I went to B2 Bistro and our waitress was so fun and cool that I immediately wanted to be her friend but I settled for being her friend on IG and following along her yoga and photography journey. In summer she posted about holding beach yoga sessions and though I have never once done yoga, I AM obsessed with the beach. Looking for a reason to get out and be social and also maybe not be a fat slob all summer, I messaged her and asked how hard it was. I’ve got a real knack for turning a group fitness class into a war zone and I figured this would be no different. I got a foot cramp and almost keeled over in a Pilates class, I knocked a kid’s glasses off in a Zumba class, and the one spin class I took, I pretended to adjust the knob for more resistance when in reality I was barley staying on that v uncomfortable seat. Needless to say, I’m uncoordinated AF and it’s best that I flail in the privacy of my own home with a YouTube workout video. Obv she told me it was a gentle practice and to come anyway. And even though I had anxiety about it and I felt weird and I’m not athletic NOR flexible, I said OK! I was terrible at it. I had no clue what I was doing and my favorite part was the end when you get to lie on your back with your eyes closed and she came over and gave me a head massage. BUT I DID IT! And everyone was super friendly, she was a great instructor, I started my day at the beach, and it was good for me to push myself and be active. And I did it one more time and didn’t get any better but still felt proud of myself for making an effort, and then summer happened and it was either 900 degrees or pouring hurricane rains. So, maybe in the fall.
Boat Ride & Fireworks (Brick)
In year 3 I befriended someone with a boat. LUCKY ME! Always make sure your friends have money or belongings that can bring you up into another tier of society, otherwise they’re not worth being friends with. I’M KIDDING. But I am grateful for my first boating experience in Jersey, because I got to watch the dreamiest sunset and then fireworks over the water on the perfect summer night. Previously, I’ve only boated on lakes in Upstate NY on the rare occurrence when I’ve secured an invite on a friend’s boat and the biggest difference I’ve noticed between lakes and ocean is that lakes the boat barely moves and ocean it bobs around and makes me want to hurl over the side. So that’s always a good thing to learn when you’re on the boat with a bunch of people who are not experiencing debilitating nausea. Keeping my fingies crossed that I just need to tackle this head-on and get used to the motion of the ocean.
Argos Farm (Forked River)
My most recent adventure and another fail for the books. If you want to peep sunflowers in Jersey, Holland Ridge Farms, which I visited my first year is definitely top dog. Happy Day Farm, also a first year adventure would probably be a good bet as well (the sunflowers were already passed by the time I went for blueberry picking.) After seeing Argos sunflower selection, I’d say guh head and skip this one. First of all, the sunflowers were dead as hell. Which is no fault of the farm, that’s just weather, baby. But nothin worse than seeing a bunch of sunnies hanging their heads. On top of that, an employee asked us to watch her admission stand while she left for a few minutes. Sorry, but if I wanted to work here I would’ve applied for a job not purchased a one-time ticcie, miss thang. And the rest of the farm was really catered to small children and also incredibly empty on the day we went, which made it look even sadder. There was no booze to be had, which honestly should be a staple at this point. Even if families are attending, let the parents sauce it up a little while they tolerate their kids saying MOM WATCH ME for the 9 billionth time on the giant slide, or trampoline, or zipline. We were promised by the owner that their Fall Festival is their real bang piece and also includes a brewery, so I’m not counting out future vizzies to Argos, but I certainly didn’t need to catch their Sunflower Fest.
F Coved It Up
Snuck in another first right at the buzzer by getting on aforementioned friend’s boat and cruising over to F Cove on a Saturday afternoon. I bought dramamine and was ready to go until every person I was with told me I’d basically roofie myself if I took that and drank. So we cut out the drugs and I prayed I wouldn’t be the only one booting in F Cove *not* from booze. Happy to report I didn’t get nauseous OR blow chunks! Am I basically Skipper now? Pretty much. And after hearing for many summers about how F Cove is basically TRL Spring Break in a very small stretch of definitely pee-infested waters, I was prepped to see some sloppy. And honestly, everyone kept their shit together while we were there, which was disappointing to say the least. The spiciest spotting was a girl in a Trump 2024 bikini barely covering her big ole floppy cans and b*hole shimmying on a waverunner with boxes of pizza. I don’t know if she was selling the pizza or just showing us that she had it and we didn’t, but it was a real close call that we didn’t catch nip dumping out of that teeny tiny bikini. Good thing Trump’s name is so short. Though I have seen boats n hoes before, I’d never seen a pizza boat. And that was pretty great. Next time, I’m getting a pie while I float.
NJ Restaurant Hot Takes:
Nicholas Creamery – as a diehard soft serve girlie, this the ONLY place I’ve loved hard ice cream AND corn-flavored ice cream. Don’t question it, just do it.
Shore Fresh – Get literally anything here, it’s all delish. I’ve had crabcake, clams casino, steamed clams, lobster bisque, & clam chowder. All a delight.
B2 Bistro – Was nervous to try their sushi but it was divine.
Jersey Shore BBQ – Awesome burnt ends & brisket. Mac and cheese has been hit or miss on the soupiness.
Divi Tree Coffee Co – Bomb PEC & coffee.
Point Lobster – Ordered a lobster bake for the first time. Had all of the regrets in the world. Honestly almost puked from dissecting it to eat and ended up with lobster in my hair and under my nails. Stick to their lobster roll.
Shogun Legends – Very good sushi.
Bad Hat – One of those places where the portions are minuscule and you leave hangry.
Pop’s Diner – BEST home fries in the game. Perfect crispiness.
Sinner’s Steakhouse – I tomahawked and I never want to not tomahawk again.
Charlie’s – Way too fancy for me. I’m an uncultured swine and don’t want 4500 ingredients in my meal.
Broad St. Dough Co. – Two words: CHURRO BITES.
River Rock – Don’t eat here.
Continued Quest to find Jersey’s Best Spressy
ScreenshotScreenshotScreenshotCricket ClubB2 BistroPoint LobsterSinners SteakhouseMainstayCharlie’sThis didn’t even make the list because I didn’t finish it because it was vomitous. From a can..in AC, go figure.Shore House TavernBroadway Bar & Grill
Just gonna copy/paste what I wrote last year because it’s the best description I’ve ever given: For those who are new to my rating system, I’ll remind you that much like Whose Line Is it Anyway, it’s a game where everything is made up and the points don’t matter. If I get a nice bartender, score goes up, if there are an incorrect number of beans, score takes a dive, if I’m already drunk, well it could really go either way. This year’s *most surprising* top spot is Broadway Bar & Grill. Never would’ve thought a dive bar could give good head. The Mainstay was another sleeper hit, mostly because moments before I tasted their espresso martini, I had one of the most disgusting cocktails of my life that also happened to be neon green. Nevertheless, this quest will continue til I’m 6 ft under, trick.
Since starting GardenStateGoofin in December, I’ve posted two videos a week except for the week I was in Florida when I gave myself a true vacation from all of my hustles. You’re probably thinking, WOW you’re amazing, you’ve created 75 posts AND organically grown your following each month while also doing a full-time job and also Door Dashing and Rovering (for January & February) and also scheduling all the social media each week for an agency (from February to present) and also getting 3 humor pieces published and also blogging on The Salty Ju occasionally and also keeping your dog alive and also keeping yourself alive and also TRYING TO HAVE FUN AND ENJOY LIFE?! And to that I say, YUP. I AM amazing. I also get paid for exactly 2 of those things I just mentioned, my FT and my PT. So am I amazing or just plain dumb? Don’t answer that.
What’s important here is that the things I enjoy doing the most are the things very few care about and certainly won’t be paying any billz anytime soon. But realistically, if I started to get paid for any of these passion projects, they would become a job and thus be soul-sucking. I appreciate anyone who is reading this or who follows along on my variety of accounts and is somewhat entertained so that my efforts aren’t completely wasted. That being said, considering I did spend a whole lot of time these past 9 months making videos quite literally every time I stepped outside of my house, I’ll gently nudge you to cruise on over to @GardenStateGoofin on Instagram or TikTok and see what I’ve been up to! And HERE WE GO, let’s keep Goofin into my 4th year in the Garden State! (Not in the ocean though…never again.)
It’s honestly shocking to me that the only book blog I’ve ever written was in 2015 considering I read a book a week (humble brag.) In preparations for the 10 year anniversary of The Salty Ju, I realized that this blog, though a BFD in my life for most of that decade, has really become my neglected firstborn in the past few years as I put all of my free time and energy into getting published on other websites and trying to become a Jersey Instagram influencer. And I’d like to formally apologize to The Salty Ju for that. You don’t deserve to be pushed aside and only brought back to life for mega embarrassing personal essays that would never get published anywhere else.
So this is my attempt to make an effort again. When I thought about what I should blog, I realized that I never have anything to yap about in the summer because I spend every waking moment at the beach reading a book. I’ve got a season pass to a private beach that I had to go on a waiting list for. That has no relevance but it makes me feel very VIP. And then I was like AHA! Why the hell wouldn’t I blog my beach reads?! For those of you who have children and will not have another moment of silence for the next 18 years, I’m so sorry but also you should’ve thought about that before you got knocked up, ya hooch. This one is really for the childless singles who perhaps don’t have that spicy of a social life and therefore go to the library (s/o libraries, if you’re paying for a book to read it one time you’re a damn fool…or rich) every other week and read an entire book while roasting on the sand every weekend. I see you because I am you.
Here’s a recap of what I read (sometimes struggled to read as loud obnoxious families set up their circle of 15 chairs in my lap, screamed all day and acted like the beach DJ…seriously am I invisible?) from the first week of June to the book I finished last night, in chronological order because I’m a Type A beast. I skipped one book completely because I liked everything I read except for a real dud by Meg Cabot, which honestly threw me for a loop. The woman who gave us The Princess Diaries!!! Don’t ever read No Words by Meg Cabot…it’s a flop and the only reason I finished it was because I held out hope she was going to put the train back on the tracks and actually tell a story. She did not. That’s the only spoiler you’ll see in this blog as I keep it to strictly plot-summary and my personal opinions in ramble form. If you get tired of my yapping, skip to the italicized line to tell you in one sentence if this book is for you.
Fangirl Down – Tessa Bailey
Check out that backwards hat, yo.
Tessa Bailey is one of my favorite authors for a light, sexy read. You know you’re going to get a steamy scene or two, and you’re usually going to get a quirky adorable girl who catches the eye of a total babe soda. Does she play into every awkward girl’s fantasy of snagging the guy everyone wants? Ya, duh. Welcome to chick-lit. This one focused on a professional golfer who’s career is on the backslide and his #1 fan, who also happens to be a talented golfer in her own right. She needs money, he needs to stop losing, so he hires her to be his caddy and coach him back to the top. Cue sparks all over the green. Listen, I 100% recommend this book. I thought it was a fun read. But I WILL add some qualifying comments. Homegirl is downright cringey. A grown adult who follows a male golfer around the country and makes signs and screeches at him and enters a contest to meet him is mortifying. Ya really gotta suspend belief a little bit to find her endearing and not mentally unstable. My second gripe is that her character has diabetes and that takes a real central role in the story. Nothing against diabetes or any sort of health condition, but it seems like these days every love story needs an added detail that gets gassed up way too much. Who knows, maybe the diabetes girlies were like YES, FINALLY, a love story for us! So it’s not my place to say…but it did seem forced in parts to reference this character’s sugar levels. Jus sayin is all.
If you ever got Cosmopolitan and flipped to the back for the Red Hot Read, but also like the rom-com buildup to the big show (girls need plot and that’s obvious) this book and literally any other Tessa book is for you.
One of the Good Guys – Araminta Hall
This was a curveball for me. Each week I go to the lib and I grab a breezy rom-com with a colorful cover featuring an illustration of a broody looking guy with a chiseled jaw–bonus points if he’s in a backwards hat and then I pick a midnight blue cover with a creepy-looking house with some title variation of “the neighbor in the last house is watching you.” I read the dark & twisty book first, then do a palate cleanse with people pretending they’re married to get ahead at work and accidentally falling in love along the way. This book presented as twisty, but also had some interesting undertones of “are all men rapey murderers?” mixed in. I was intrigued. I don’t know that it would be at the top of my list for rec’s, but it was a different approach to the “who’s telling the truth” type of storytelling. A slow burn at first, it follows a guy who is going through a divorce and takes a job as a forest ranger out in the middle of nowhere. Through his perspective of what went wrong in his relationship (very victim-oriented), we also learn that two young girls are hiking across the country to raise awareness for sexual assault and just reminded in general how women are treated by disgusting men. They cross paths in the forest where he lives and end up going missing. The book does a good job of making you question if this guy is actually a total sociopath or if he really is “one of the good guys.” It has a nice twist in the end and being satisfied with it is the closest I’ll ever get to becoming a hardcore feminist who marches in parades with a vagina hat.
If you’re a pussy-head marcher, this book is absolutely for you, but ALSO if you want to dip your toes in the men are trash waters, this is a nice shallow, thought-provoking dip.
Welcome Home, Caroline Kline – Courtney Preiss
10/10 recommend scooting your beach chair right up to the tide and consuming a book with your feet fully immersed in the ocean. No better feeling.
I found out about this book before it was even published through the Jersey Collective, the local group/account that I’ve done a photography takeover on a couple times now. The author lives in Asbury Park and I thought it was cool that by six degrees of separation (following the same local IG account) I knew her. You’ll notice that this book does not have a library sticker on it because I ACTUALLY purchased it. And I didn’t return it a day later after reading it. An incredibly rare occurrence! I wanted to support the local author cause because if the day ever comes that I publish my memoir, you bet your ass I’ll want everyone to pay full-price for a hard copy. Also, it looked like a book that intertwined many of my interests: baseball, the Jersey shore, and moving back home for a short stint to lick one’s wounds. We love a messy lead and Caroline Kline is certainly that. She quits her job to move to CA with her boyfriend, gets dumped, then ends up moving home to help her dad mend after a tumble and take his place in the local Jersey Shore men’s softball league that he’s determined to win a championship with. This story has everything! Sports, family drama, vulnerable ‘where the hell is my life going’ moments, being back in your hometown when you never wanted to be back in your hometown sass and of course, a summer romance. Caroline also has a Grade A foul mouth and lots of Jersey ‘tude, which is so fun to read in a story and much less fun when it’s directed at you on a Sunday morning in ShopRite.
Check it out if you want to try being a Jersey Girl for a summer down the shore on for size and see what it’s like to prove yourself on an all-boys team and talk trash to a bunch of old townies.
Everything After – Jill Santopolo
I remember reading almost exactly the same book by Jill Santopolo before, so if you’re not into authors regurgitating the same storyline with different characters, skip this one. If I were Jill’s husband, I’d start to get a little suspicious by book #2 where the plot is all about that one significant love…”the one who got away,” reappearing after decades, perhaps at a crossroads in the main character’s current relationship, making them question if they made the right choice or if they should blow up their whole life. As someone who has nearly drowned in the BUT WHAT IF WE WERE MEANT TO BE whirlpool one too many times, I clearly have a soft spot for the second chance romance novels. I imagine many people can relate to letting your mind wander down the ‘every decision you make sets you on a completely different path’ wormhole. This story following a woman who is married and trying for kids flips back and forth between her present-day story and old journals to weave together past and present with the two greatest loves of her life. It’s a more serious read dealing with pregnancy loss, keeping secrets, and figuring out who you are and not losing that in a relationship. So for me, it sits neatly dead center on the spectrum between trashy novels with boneriffic sex scenes and murder books.
If your’e feeling wistful or like maybe you should leave your husband and go on tour with your ex-boyfriend who wrote a hit song about how much he loves you, then this is FO SHO the read for you.
The Daydreams – Laura Hankin
I keep a long-running list of books that are recommended to me from friends, newsletters, mah homegirl Reese Witherspoon, and then I usually forget that list exists and judge books by their covers and grab a stack every few weeks from the new books section. Then I hit a wall and realize I can’t pick up the romantic novel that LOOKS normal one more time only to read the description ending in: “will two wolf shape-shifters get it together and find love?” Sorry not sorry, wolf sex ain’t it for me. Anyway, the point of that rant was to say that this month I realized I had read almost every new book that I wanted to and it was time to pull up my trusty, often ignored list and dive into the stacks for not-so-new books. This was one of them. Recommended for millennials who loved teen soaps (ME), this follows a group of actors who grew up doing a musical show together on essentially a Disney network but they’ll never name-drop Disney in a fictional story because they’ll owe Walt big buckers. It was giving cast of High School Musical vibes and was told mostly from the “bitchy” one’s perspective flipping between the past and to the present day, using devices like journal entries, gossip columns, group chats, celeb interviews and tweets. It was a fun way to get a probably more true than not depiction of what it’s like to throw teenagers into stardom and have them all try to figure that out while also having slimy producers and network execs running their lives and cashing in on their every move. It’s not SO jarring that we’re creeping into Dan Schneider/Nickelodeon territory, but it’s got just the right amount of juicy goss and slimy old white men being dirtbags. Again, a different read than I normally go for because apparently Summer Ju is really experimenting with genres these days!
Read it if you’ve always wondered what it would be like to be mega-famous for 2 years as a teen and then drop out of the spotlight completely to become a lawyer, only to eventually cash in on reunion culture.
The Rule Book – Sarah Adams
The experimenting has ended because this is so cookie-cutter my type of book, it hurts. (Much like Fangirl Down.) Nora’s a sports agent who wears funky outfits everyone makes fun of and says a ton of stupid phrases but doesn’t care because she crushes it at work. Her ex-boyfriend, Derek, is a professional football player. Great timing as the world is obsessed with dating the guy on the football team at the moment…wonder why. She signs him as her first client but he hates her for dumping him in college so natch there’s a little hazing that leads to accidentally revealing true feelings that are still miraculously lingering a decade later. This story’s inclusive twist is that Derek is dyslexic. RAISE AWARENESS FOR DISCOVERING YOU HAVE A LEARNING DISORDER IN YOUR THIRTIES. This is what I’m saying about the add-ons in chick-lit plots these days. I can’t math and have to use a tip calculator every time I eat dinner out. Can we include that as a trauma in the next romance novel so I can feel seen and hold onto hope that someone will still fall in love with me even though I’m dumb with numbies?! LMK. PS it was clear this was one of a series as there were many references to all of the boyz on the football team being swept off their feet with “the one” so if you like this installment, feel free to read the probably 6 other identical love stories…I know I will as I wait for my knight in shining pro athlete who just wants a goofy girl to settle down with.
Read to find out what would’ve happened if Tim Riggins never went to jail and ended up in the NFL and his new agent was Lyla Garrity.
The Golden Couple – Greer Hendricks & Sarah Pekkanen
I read this in one day and that’s the quickest Salty Ju stamp of approval on a book and also proof that I literally have no life. Following a radical therapist who guarantees to fix someone’s life in ten sessions (can I have her numba?) and a couple who seek her out for help, it’s one of those stories where you flip back and forth between the therapist’s perspective and the wife who cheated on her husband’s perspective and you learn new secrets each chapter. You question who’s the good guy and who’s the bad guy and what else is being hidden and obviously you’re not going to find out until the twist at the very end WHICH IS WHY I COULDN’T PUT IT DOWN UNTIL I KNEW FOR SURE. I suspected something wasn’t right with the one who turns out to be a villain, but I didn’t outright predict it and there were enough weirdos involved for everyone to look sus. So it was worth staying up until 1am to finish on a Saturday evening. WOO wild night.
Read if you enjoy thrillers that aren’t terrifying, but have enough drama and clues to keep you guessing who the psychopath is.
**Also, completely unrelated to the plot, but this was another one recommended to me a while back by a fellow bookworm and when I looked it up on the trusty catalog at the library, they said they had it but I couldn’t find it, even double checking by singing my ABC’s in my head, so I asked the librarian for assistance, and when she couldn’t find it, I told her to forget it, it wasn’t that big of a deal. Except that she was committed and wanted to find it too. As it turns out, this book was only available in Large Print. Since I’m not geriatric, I’ve always borrowed regular print books, but I felt bad about this 20 minute search so I borrowed the LP. When I cracked this bad boy open at the beach, I was MEGA embarrassed. I saw how big those words were and I assumed everyone behind me on the sand and possibly parasailing 50 ft in the air could read along with me. Whenever I looked at my phone I thought I had messed with a setting to make that text smaller. So that’ll probably be it for me with the size 50 font books. I even took myself out for a seafood dinner (cause no one else will) and brought this book as my date. HIGHLY recommend shoving crab cake into your crab-hole, slurping rosé, and trying to figure out who the loony is in a good read (and letting the old couple 4 tables away try as well, without even putting on their cheaters.)
The people stuck on the moon right now said thanks for letting them follow along.
It Must Be True Then – Luci Adams
This is for my Sophie Kinsella girlies. Anyone who loves a real disaster of a British character. Daisy gets dumped by a marketing exec she’s been banging at work for a year and also fired from said job right around the same time. She deals with it by staging a bunch of fake photos and videos on Instagram to show everyone she’s doing just fine and embarrassing herself. There’s wholesome friend and family storylines, obviously a romance brews, and even some sassy kids who surprisingly for me don’t ruin the story, but make it more heartwarming. It’s a lovely lesson in focusing on the good in your life, not being a fake betch on social media, and trusting the process because everything will all work out in the end. I need all of those lessons very frequently, so it hit home for me. And oh boy, it sure is fun to read someone else’s hot mess express journey to learning these lessons. It’s the classic, well I’m bad but at least I’m not THAT BAD. Also, you CANNOT beat British funny phrases. For instance when Daisy’s sister says, “Because it’s 3pm on a Wednesday and I just caught you sharing your nip nops with the Internet.” Cue me inserting nip nops into every sentence forever and ever.
This book is like Sophie Kinsella’s The Burnout meets Can You Keep A Secret? You’ll appreciate it if you’ve ever done something cringe for social media to make your life look better than it is or attract a guy.
Five Bad Deeds – Caz Frear
Another page turner to see who is terrible and who isn’t in a cast of shady characters. The book starts out with Ellen in jail and then goes backwards three months and obviously you spend the whole story trying to find out how this B ended up in the slammer. Told from MANY different perspectives, it was almost difficult at first to keep everyone straight, especially when you toss in names like Nush and Esme and Orla. Those damn Brits, I tell ya. It’s fun to unravel the secrets and also just the general theme (that often happens in these thriller-type novels) that people who make up your community and seem to be your closest circle of girliepops more often than not actually can’t stand you and wish for you to fail and/or try to steal your husband. #Girlhood.
This book is for you if you love a mystery full of family drama, can keep up with a lot of characters, and believe a house can be cursed.
I had high hopes of getting through my next book (One-Star Romance by Laura Hankin) before publishing this blog, but I wanted to get the blog out there while there are still beach days to be had so you can all take my expert advice and go get yourself a fresh read. Since it would bother me until the end of time if I didn’t have an even-steven 10 titles, I’m going to cheat and add one that I read back in January because I believe every millennial should read it and better sooner rather than later since OF COURSE they’re turning it into a movie now.
The Woman In Me – Britney Spears
It’s no secret that I love a celebrity memoir (please refer to the several YEARS of celeb goss I peddled in my Weekly JUices on this very blog) and Britney’s was HIGHLY anticipated. Was I expecting her to have actually written it? No, of course not. But read one page of this book and you immediately know it’s true. If I had to guess this whole book is about a 3rd grade reading level of difficulty. Even Derek from The Rule Book could read it with his dyslexia. HEYYYOOO. Callback dig. But actually, I recommend it to all because it is THAT easy to get through. The chapters are incredibly short and the vocabulary used is that of a woman who grew up in the south and then was held hostage by a lunatic for 13 years and survived to tell the tale. For anyone who was even a scooch intrigued by her conservatorship, this is her side of the story. And folks, it is horrifying. It’s eye opening to see how someone can get manipulated into being a prisoner and essentially a slave to her deranged dad as a grown adult and have it be perfectly legal. More importantly, if you ever had a crush on JT growing up like I did, you’ll want to cringe out of your skin at the BTS stories of their relationship. What a tool he is. #TeamBritney! I hope she stays somewhat sane and stops tossing knives around and showing us her cooch on IG, but also, after reading this book, I totally understand why she would.
If you liked Jessica Simpson’s memoir for the insider relationship stories and very real trauma that we never got the full scoop on because tabloids just shit all over these women, you’ll appreciate BritBrit’s story.
JUST FOR LAUGHS BONUS: Not to kink shame, but here’s an example of why after pinching a bright book from the shelf, I always read the back/inside cover for a brief overview and to make sure I’m not about to dive into a book with furry fetish bullshit. This one was so preposterous that I sent it to my sister for a chuckle and will now share with you for some shark shits and giggles. Don’t just judge a book by its cover…judge it by its cover AND THEN double check the summary. Imagine being married to a Great White? Nightmare, I assume. A gorgeous debut novel though, I’m sure.
I’ve recently been trying harder to get published again, which caused me to dive back into the old archive of drafts from my writing sprint a couple years ago. I know it may seem hard to imagine for any of you who have read my blog or my satire before, but they are almost one in the same. 99% of my humor pieces are based on real life scenarios and I write it in my own voice. Sometimes I look back at a draft I wrote and realize I don’t want to make something more fictional or satirical, I want to just tell it like it is…ya know, funny cuz it’s TRUE! So here’s a list of all the crazy shit medical professionals have actually said out loud to me, which may or may not be the crux of my distrust in doctors and my severe anxious attachment to self-diagnosing on WebMD.
*For the last three years I’ve churned out a birthday blog as a mechanism to fight the sads on aging. I felt like I got it all out last year (I should’ve for how long that blog was), so pls accept this unrelated blog that I was planning on posting anyway as my “birthday blog.” Realistically, when you get older, your body starts deteriorating and if you keep reading you’ll see that mine has been doing so since birth so I guess it’s still on theme. I’m actually terrified for what my later years will bring with medical care, but at least I made it to 33without crumbling into dust. And that’s certainly worth celebrating!
In Chronological Order
Oops, let me just check where the sun don’t shine! Hot start, I know. The most important thing I learned growing up didn’t come from a textbook, it came from my childhood dermatologist repeatedly checking my butthole for moles. As it turns out, moles don’t come from the sun, and they CAN thrive in dark cracks. For whatever reason the first derm I had was obsessed with diving into my butt (not just mine, I double checked with my sister and she got the same scarring peek so it’s comforting to know I wasn’t being violated alone) and I’ve seen roughly 45 derms since this one and none of them have ever once parted my buttcheeks looking for cancerous moles. But one *did* have the balls to tell me that I had age spots near my vagina that often appear around age 30. 😑 I was 27 at the time. Even if I didn’t already have a complex about aging, THAT WOULD’VE DONE IT!
*Pulls saturated glove out from armpit* Well, you definitely have a sweating problem. Gee doc, my pit stains down to my ankles on a Tuesday in the middle of February might’ve indicated that or maybe it’s the fact that all the other 7th graders chant “SWASS” repeatedly when I walk into the cafeteria with a moist butt print on my terrycloth mini. JK they didn’t do that. But I have photographic proof that on the 8th grade field trip to Cleveland, OH, my tee shirt was soaked and discolored as I tried to flirt with a boy and sit on his lap while my Secret Light & Fresh wasn’t hacking it and I absolutely had BO and HONESTLY THAT’S PROBABLY WHY I DIDN’T HAVE A BOYFRIEND UNTIL 25. (I spent about 2 hours trying to find this picture and of course I can’t. But one day, when you least expect it, I’ll resurface it for gigglez.)
Also, I leaked in 7th grade during a visit from Aunt Flo and I WAS wearing a terrycloth mini and I didn’t think anything of it being wet because that was just an average day for me in my teens and therefore I went all day walking around with a giant seat-print blood stain on my skirt. The moral of the story is that all of this could’ve been solved if my mom agreed to let the dermatologist stick me with botox to block my sweat glands on this fateful day and instead she said I was too young and ruined my life. I’m even more bitter now because as a grown ass adult I still can’t afford botox and I have to buy new white shirts every quarter to replace the ones with browned armpits because I still pour sweat out of all of my orifices on the daily double. Even when I’m cold. #HyperhidrosisSurvivor
I need an even smaller speculum because you’ve got an itty bitty vagina.As if going to the gynecologist for the first time at 15 isn’t traumatizing enough, let’s add in a doc telling me to keep my American Eagle distressed jean skirt intact and just slide my undies off, which felt like something a horny teen would say as we snuggled under a blanket in his basement watching a scary movie. She then proceeded to conduct a full pap smear on a girl who had never even kissed a boy. Spoiler alert: even the small speculum feels like you’re being cranked open with a car jack and your hymen is being ripped out by a gloved hand. As adorable as it may sound, having an “itty bitty vagina” made my annual invasion a straight up lady bits massacre from ages 15-present day.
The trick is to pant like a dog and you won’t even feel me swab your throat.One would think a reference to a strep throat cult was from my early childhood but curveball, this was told to me when I was 23. Yes, that’s right. You heard it here first. I was a college graduate before I stopped hitting doctors and screaming when they tried to swab my throat. All it took was for a very skilled ninja in the Urgent Care to not judge me and to give me this pro tip so I didn’t feel like I was choking to death. I mean, realistically I could make dolphin sounds and clap my fins and I will STILL FEEL that giant wooden paddle piercing my hangy ball with reckless abandon causing me to gag uncontrollably. But this was the one and only time I didn’t badger the doctor administering the strep test. I also didn’t have strep, I had mono and because they couldn’t diagnose it for several visits, I turned into a lifeless corpse that eventually needed a Sammy Sosa dose of roids to bring me back to life.
Sounds like your boyfriend has multiple personality disorder.This sentence was uttered by a licensed mental health counselor about 20 mins into my first therapy appointment after giving a brief description of my boyfriend. That’s right, folks, this is someone who has years of schooling and certifications to help people through their darkest times and she’s tossing out a diagnosis for someone she’s never even met after two sentences from someone she *just* met. YIKES THAT IS SCARY. What’s scarier is that she ended the appointment by saying that she saw my reaction when she said that and wanted to walk it back, because therapy is just guessing and seeing what resonates. What’s scariest is that I continued to see her for several months and even brought my boyfriend in for an appointment because she asked to meet him and then she flirted with him for 40 minutes and told me to never let him get away. YOU CAN HAVE HIM, DONNA!
*Feels ice cold toes * Not much I can do for this, your best bet is to move down to Florida where it’s much warmer!So then it IS true what the brochures say, Florida is known as the Circulation state! Add my Raynaud’s Syndrome (freezing cold fingers and toes), to the laundry list of ailments that get worse as I age. Apparently I have my Nana to thank for passing the ole dead toes on down to me in the genetics pool. Ironically enough, her toes are dead as is the rest of her and has been since long before I was layering two pairs of socks to sleep at night in the winter. I can also thank my family for settling in the frozen tundra of Syracuse, which certainly hasn’t helped matters. But sure, as I put a space heater on my feet, invest in wool socks and wear Uggs everywhere, it certainly hadn’t crossed my mind that FLORIDA WOULD BE BETTER THAN THIS ICY HELLHOLE.
*Lifts shirt* You were the one with the abnormal mole, THAT’s right. You’ll just feel a pinch.Why do drugs when you can get simple thrills just from getting your back sliced and stitched up with the exam room door wide open and wonder if they figured out which patient you are yet. Puff puff pass or back alley biopsy, amirite?! This was hands down the sketchiest/most unprofessional experience I’ve ever had in a medical office. These clowns pulled up topless pictures of other patients on their double monitor computers in front of me (of course it was the oldest man on this earth, they couldn’t even treat me to a hot bod), complained about their jobs, bitched about other patients, scraped my back for a biopsy and let it bleed all over my white shirt, had me sign a waiver minutes before surgery on my own lap and took the pages with the actual info on it and told me just to Johnny Hancock the sig page, then conducted the surgery with the door wide open and my shirt off, chatting amongst themselves as they tried to figure out which patient I actually was mid-slice. And then I had to go back and have the stitches ripped from my body (also with the door open.) That was three total appointments from a place that was about as legit as a medic tent at Fyre Fest. So natch when they sent me a “HOW DID WE DO” survey, I lit them up. Don’t ask if you don’t want the answer, boneheads! As you might recall-in my 31st Birthday Blog, I googled how to report them as well. I hope someone far richer than me has sued the ever-loving shit out of them by now. That’s my birthday wish this year.
Has your nipple always looked like that? Ya, doc. I’ve been coming here annually for 3 years now and you ask me this exact question every time and instead of roasting the left nip I was born with and suggesting it could be a sign of breast cancer, maybe you could just make a fucking note in my chart. Another dermatologist. Go figure.
If you haven’t figured it out yet, I have been mostly traumatized (and tan-shamed) by dermatologists. BUT my most surprising violation (with very little verbal warning) came from my viz to the GI, which I detailed extensively here. In addition, of course, to the all-time classic, “you’ve been pooping wrong,” which belongs on this list right alongside the jarring buhhole examination. A two-for-one special of reasons to be in therapy from that Doc.
Your feet aren’t that bad, imagine what I see in Newark. Honestly, this was meant to be a comforting statement from my favorite doc I have, my podiatrist. He’s an old-school Italian, baseball lovin guy who takes care of me as if I’m his own daughter (including putting my shoes on at the end of each appointment and tying the laces for me, double knot style.) Most people would be irritated by this but I actually love being treated like a toddler when I visit him quarterly. Keeps me young, which I know I am anyway because judging by his waiting room, I am 50 years younger than any of his patients. But anyway, when your sister is telling you that you can’t come home for the 4th of July unless you wear socks at all times because she doesn’t want to puke at the sight of your toenail that LITERALLY WILL NEVER HEAL (it’s almost a full year later and we’re still rocking a very unappealing toe), hearing that the mangled dusty-ass tootsies of Newark are even being mentioned in the same sentence as yours is not very uplifting. Especially because HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO PULL IN FEET PIC MONEY IF MY FEET ARE HORRIFYING. My right big toe, AKA Moldy Toe looks like what I imagine a 95 year old woman’s crusty chunky toenail looks like and for several months of sandal season, Doc told me I couldn’t put nail polish over it to cover it up. And I told him that if I was ever going to find a husband we’d have to find a solution that wasn’t flaunting this bad boy around bare in a pair of flops. So yea, the bar is low as I wait for this thing to die away from me but at least it’s not STREETS OF NEWARK low.
PS The sad faced hospital gown cover photo wasn’t from any of these circumstances but was from a dermatologist who forgot about me waiting in the exam room in a paper gown one day. Doesn’t make the cut because they didn’t say anything questionable…they didn’t even remember I existed. My mom told them they were all dead to us and we stormed out of there and never turned back. I know, I know, ANOTHER DERMATOLOGIST. And while we’re on the topic of the most traumatizing type of doctor, I just want it in writing that I’m a FIRM believer in them scraping a mole every year strictly to say they did something. There has not been one single time that I’ve been examined by a derm and they haven’t said hm, this one looks a little iffy, let me just send a piece of it to the lab. Sure, doc. You go ahead and take a souv from my skin so you can charge me (and my insurance…if I happen to have any at the time) an extra lab testing/needles/numbing injection fee. WITHOUT FAIL. It’s like paying the toll at the dermatologist. Which reminds me, I’m due for payment in a couple months…I wonder where I’ll be hacked this time.
The Salty Ju 