Julie Roth

Have you heard about the angler fish? There was one in Finding Nemo so my guess is, “Yes, I do know what an angler fish is.” They’re those ugly little mothers that have a little glowing worm-like appendage at the end of a long antennae. They mate for life because the male fish, which is about ten times smaller than the female, attaches itself to the side of the giant female and eventually goes from a parasitic spouse to a sperm bag as he slowly becomes a part of her body. It’s the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard of. I’m not a marine biologist, but I did do a report about these beasts in second grade, and all I can remember is how tricky drawing the fucker was.
I am not the big momma letting pathetic guys latch on to me like their life depended on it. I’m probably the biggest wienie I know, and I think it might surprise people because I’m tall, have nice hair, and look like Bjork. However, I also collect things with kittens on them, have a crippling fear of the dark and sea creatures and my mom, and I finished the internet.
I never thought of myself as having an addictive personality, but the one heifer I’ve attached my pathetic little body to is the Internet. Do you know how lame it sounds to say, “I spent 12 hours today looking at websites?” Well, whatever, asshole. I’ve seen more celebrity genitals than I can count. I also know how to put on drag queen make up, fold a shirt in three seconds, and can prove to you that JC Chasez is a Mennonite. I’ve seen so many cute babies and animals that I forgot what my own family looks like (but I’m pretty sure my little brother looks like Bruce Lee and my dad might be Santa Claus).

It’s taken me at least three hours to write this because I needed to stop and find out that Britney Spears was just voted the #1 celebrity mom, see Lindsay Lohan lash out against her ex, Sam Ronson, on Twitter, and check whether or not some Finnish Fashionistas updated their blogs yet. They haven‘t.