I Can't, Vol. 24

Forgive the very minimally belated content of this "I Can't" post. You see, I wrote it Monday, fresh off the short-lasting high of the SAG awards and when my Facebook feed was blowing up with unavoidably conversation-starting content. But, for whatever reason, I post-poned it until now. You have to forgive me. YOU HAVE TO FORGIVE ME.


For my newer readers who may not be familiar with these special posts and even for the ones that are familiar, but maybe need a refresher just because, allow me to explain where my "I Can'ts" come from. 

You see, over the years, many on fleek phrases come and go (my only hope is that “on fleek” goes and never, ever comes back). Generation Y is just full of word-savvy individuals who are all about coining phrases to define our every mood, emotion, and reaction. But the best one – the one that won’t ever die because it never won’t pertain to everything ever – is “I can’t.” Or “I can’t even.” Or, to get super intense about it, “I literally can’t even” which leaves no room for question about the legitimacy about the statement.

What some of you may not know is that I COINED THE PHRASE IN COLLEGE. I have absolutely zero evidence of that declaration, but I know in my heart of hearts that I for sure originally uttered the phrase "I can't" back in Lawrence, Kansas between the years of 2005-2009.

So, this past week, there were some things I couldn’t and that you probably can’t either.

I can’t…

with Carrie Fisher’s electroshock therapy induced introduction of her mother, Debbie Reynolds, at Sunday night’s SAGAwards. At one point, my boyfriend left and re-entered the room, screaming, “Is she still talking?!??” Princess Leia was Princess Maybe Let's Sit This One Out, Ok?


I can’t…

on that same note, with J. Aniston’s titties at said awards show. And yeah – I said titties. Because when you let them just sorta hang there like that, with no bra or support, that’s what they deserve to be called (I know -- they're still great boobs, I just know they can look better than this. I'm disappointed, really).


I can’t…

handle the blogger that damned yoga pants to hell, claiming that as a good, Christian woman, she can’t have men checking out her ass and having “lustful” thoughts because of said yoga pants. I can’t so hard with this, that I’ll just quote my good friend’s husband on the subject:  “If you read the old testament, it clearly says that Adam at first refused to eat the apple, but then Eve put on yoga pants and thus we are forever cursed with original sin.”


I can’t…

with Tess Holiday, the size 22 model whose story of saying FUCK OFF I’M DOING ME to basically everyone ever and actually succeeding at it went viral yesterday via the internets. And I can’t for not the reason you’re probably assuming I can’t. I can’t because why does modeling have to be so extreme? It’s either impossibly insect-thin girls or extremely large, HEAR ME ROAR, “plus size” women. What about every other woman in between? You know, like, the majority of the female population? Show me a 5’4”, 140-pound girl showcasing some casual wear and looking impossibly adorable. Show me a 5'6" gorgeous girl with a little bit of a tummy but killer boobs frolicking along the beach in an amazing bikini. SHOW ME SOMETHING I CAN RELATE TO. I WANT "AVERAGE."

(click on her tattoo to read the story)

I can’t…

with this Kanye quote: “I saw this book from the 1800s and it was velvet-covered with brass and everything…I looked at all these people’s photos, and they look so real, and their outfits were incredible and they weren’t smiling. ... When you see paintings in an old castle, people are not smiling cause it just wouldn’t look as cool…not smiling makes me smile.” Samesies, Yez. Because, I too, am a psycho with sociopathic tendencies. See how cool I look?

cool kanye

I can't...

that one of my friends went to see Cabaret in NYC this week and Emma Stone just, like, wasn't there that night. I mean, how dare she? My friend is a hilarious, beautiful gay man who deserves to see who he paid to see. Not some no-name understudy. I haven't even said any of this to my friend yet -- this is the first time he'll be reading it (hi, Ben!). But, really. It upset me! Don't be there any other night, but not on a night this innocent fawn bought tickets to enjoy your singing. I'm so sorry, little Benji.

I can’t…

stress enough how important the “Thug Life” video series is. If you aren’t familiar with it, please stop everything you’re doing, click here, and be entertained for a good two hours by sassy toddlers and perfect one-liners. This is, by far, the best animal one I've seen:


I can’t…

that I just came up with the best new term: EWTF. A super efficient way to say "GROSS, WHAT THE FUCK!" I didn't even mean to. My fingers just slipped on the keyboard. Genius finds me -- I don't find it.



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