I get the feeling that John Wayne Bobbitt was an unpleasant person. I say this because I have just spent a few nights watching a documentary on the Bobbitts, called Lorena.
I of course remember the Bobbitt situation, because, as someone in the movie pointed out, 200 million women alive today have had their genitals removed, but you cut one man part off and the whole world goes insane.
But I didn’t really pay attention to it at the time. If you mention any newsworthy event that occurred in the 1980s or 1990s, in my mind I am passing through the living room du jour (I moved a lot) of my current rental, glancing hurriedly at the news. Any news event. Name it. I am standing watching it for a moment while brushing my teeth or running past to get black tights or what have you. I am never just sitting quietly on couch du jour watching the news.
Where the hell was I always going? Somewhere with alcohol or men or both, is where I was going.
It’s the same with any TV show from those decades. I never really watched any show. My mother was watching something in the kitchen while I was headed out, or some friend really liked a show so I heard about it at work. Otherwise, I didn’t watch TV.
The only show I can really remember sitting down for sure and watching was Thirtysomething. And occasionally Moonlighting because it came on right after. I’m sure I had other shows but I can’t remember any sitting and viewing of them. I was on the go for two decades. Now I’m on the stop.
Melrose Place! I sat and watched that. My roommate du jour and I had a deal, that if it was a really good episode, we’d go to the bar after. Melrose Place came on on a Tuesday.
Anyway, John Wayne Bobbitt. He abused that poor woman. I never really paid attention to that part, and that’s, in fact, what a lot of the documentary is about. That we paid attention to the severed part and not the abused part. I’m not saying she was justified, she wasn’t. But it’s a man’s world, man.
Currently, Lorena Bobbitt works with abused women and is still lovely and very thoughtful. She remarried (can you imagine the bachelor party jokes?) and has a child.
John Wayne Bobbitt can’t hold down a job, not even at the Bunny Ranch, and beat several woman who called the cops on him, and who knows how many who didn’t. He held one woman hostage for days, thought she was dead, wrapped her in a sheet to dispose of her, and she escaped because she’d been playing dead.
So. My opinion of him is not positive. I don’t not have warm regard for John Bobbitt.
While I’m on the subject of TV and being on the stop, for YEARS now my Amazon Prime has shown me images of shows I might like, and there’s been one little square that shows a crying woman. That show is called Fleabag. Every time I saw it, I was put off by the crying woman. Buck up.
But finally one day that I was home actually sitting on my couch and not rushing off to a bar or to see men because I never do either of those things anymore because both give me a headache, finally I clicked on the description of Fleabag.
Fleabag is a hilarious and poignant window into the mind of a dry-witted, sexual, angry, grief-riddled woman, as she hurls herself at modern living in London. Award-winning playwright Phoebe Waller-Bridge writes and stars as Fleabag, an unfiltered woman trying to heal, while rejecting anyone who tries to help her and keeping up her bravado all along.
Well, holy shit. Why didn’t I watch this ages ago?
And? IT WAS GREAT. Oh my god I love that show. And? Season two came out last week. I watched, of course, all of it in two days, because I really hate that TV people now thinks five shows is a “season.” It’s not a season, it’s a fleck.
My point is, highly recommend if you have Amazon Prime.
I forgot! A few days ago I re-became an Amazon Associate. Re-became is a strong proud word.
Any time I add an image that’s a link to Amazon, like above, if you click on it and buy ANYTHING on Amazon right then, I get credit for it. So, for example, if you wanted Amazon Prime, or a knife for severing parts, or the box set of Thirtysomething, which I don’t know if that exists but hooo care you get my point, all you have to do is go to Amazon from my page. It doesn’t cost you extra and I get some $$.
Or let’s say you want this unicorn head whose hair you can style. Or let’s say you want a book and not a unicorn head at all. You can STILL click on that unicorn’s head and it will get you to Amazon to buy said book and it still counts as a purchase you made from my blog.
This is all good news because today I go see a trainer. Yes.
I am ENORMOUS and I hate myself. I don’t even weigh the most I’ve ever weighed, it’s just that oh my god what happened and why am I Jabba the Hut. So I told myself I’d do Tracy Anderson each morning and I’ve done it like twice. Then I told myself I’d go to the gym and I know if I do I’d just go walk on the treadmill and look the same after.
Then I said I’d get up early to go to yoga ONE MILE AWAY but have I ever gone? We also have free yoga at work and HAVE I EVER GONE?
Well. Yes. Once. In like 2013.
So, this way I have to show up because someone is waiting for me. She’s someone Austin recommended and have you all seen Austin? Anyway, extra cash to help pay for this would be nice. CLICK ON THAT UNICORN HEAD. GET YOU SOMETHING OFFA AMAZON!
And you don’t have to be all snotty and be like, “I already am hooked up on Amazon with a REPUTABLE CHARITY, JUNE, and can’t go on there through you.” Geez Louise, that’s fine. Stop making me feel bad for trying to make a little money in the least-intrusive way possible. Am I all BUY MY BOOK? Am I all BUY MY TUPPERWARE? Am I all PAY TO READ THIS BLOG? No. I’m putting in an image you can click on or not.
People get so pissy about money. I’d say out of all the bloggers I know I’m the least mercenary.
Not that there are any bloggers anymore.
Oh, dear, I’d better go. I have to find workout clothes and so on.
Yours in baking, I have no idea why I said that,