It’s the happiest Harriet Carter Wednesday in all of the land! And by “land” I, of course, mean “white trash dwellings.” Kudos to me for using the word “dwelling” in this here crapbag blog for the first time in almost 4 years. Harriet teaches. Anygarb, this week Harriet sings “Noni Baby” to a sleepy little tike named Failure Model Chick and helps some Level Three bust the windows out his car, probably to escape the police chase. Let’s go!
Product # 1 – Shhhh! Let’s use our indoor voice because Failure Model Chick is so sleepy, but she just can’t seem to catch any winks. Ho hum. It’s exhausting being FMC, I’m sure. I mean one day you’re on top of the world filming scenes for A&E’s Intervention (true story) and the next day you’re in a photoshoot wearing see-thru dickies for the Harriet Carter catalog. Some say Angelina Jolie is the hardest working woman in showbiz, but I beg to differ. I mean, I of course think that Jodie Sweetin is the hardest working woman in the biz, but in a close second is Failure Model Chick. Just look at the sleepless beauty. It’s like she has the weight of the world on her shoulders…and, well, just below her shoulders too. I am, as always, referring to her rack-attack. Good luck sleeping on your stomach with those bombs. If you do, make sure to turn off your ceiling fan or you’re likely to chop up your back in the middle of the night. Now where was I? Oh yes, nobody wants FMC to sleep in heavenly peace more than me. Well, I’m sure the devil does, but besides him, I do too. If only there was some kind of diarrhea brown colored Velcro that you could slap around your wrist to help cure insomnia. Oh, there is? Que suerte! Apparently all you need to do is place this onto your wrist and in 3….2….1 you’ll be sleeping like a baby, a baby who craps themselves in the middle of the night and needs to be woken up every 2.5 hours for a feeding. Please note, when wearing this insomnia curer, be sure to be like FMC and go to bed with a face full of makeup on, as the coke that was more than likely consumed just hours before you bought this contraption is likely to cause your trained cat to call 911 when you haven’t woken up in 3 days and, well, you’re going to want to look your best when the paramedics arrive and try to give you the breath of life. If you’re FMC every moment is like a potential casting call and it should be for you too! I only have one thing left to say. Welcome home, Failure Model Chick, welcome home.
Product # 2 – Level Three’s, Level Three’s whatcha gonna do, whatcha gonna do when the cops come for you? Well finally there’s an answer to that age old question. When you’re in high pursuit (non trivia related) from the 5-0 and you’ve been circling around the school yard since Monday you’re going to need a fast escape from your car, especially when you’re boxed (giggity) in. Well, if your car looks more like a window seat in a 747, like in this picture, all you need to do is use this handy-dandy device to shatter your window into a million little pieces. And look how brave this Level Three is? He’s not even trying to protect his eyes one bit from the shattered glass. I’m sure all his focus is on protecting his ding dong so he doesn’t compromise his diddling endeavors in the near future. I’ve written about a similar device years ago, but this one seems even better because it attaches to your key-chain….which means you can bring it everywhere you go and, well, I plan on it! Forget the boring car escape, I can’t wait to bring it to the mall! When I’m about to leave The Gap and an employee says to me, “Have a nice day, sir.” I’m going to reply back with, “Sir!?!?!?!” and then I’m going to use my key-chain to shatter their front window and walk out into the mall that way. Doors are for losers. Next up, when I’m sitting on a plane and waiting for us to roll up to the gate, when I hear the flight attendant say, “Please remain seated until the captain turns off the seat belt sign.” I’m going to reply back with, “Captain? What are we on a boat? Make me sit here, biiiiiiitch!” and then I’ll use my key-chain to shatter the window and shimmy out the plane and onto the runway. See you in baggage claim, losers! Finally, I plan on bringing this to the bank with me. That’s right. I’m sorry, bank teller, I can’t seem to hear you through that protective glass that separates me from you. Let me just quickly grab my key-chain and shatter that glass so we can have an adult conversation and talk about my banking transactions. Free checking? Don’t mind if I do!
