Elloâ elloâ.Â
What a week. Too many things happened. One of those ~things~ was a drama at Superdrug that led to me crying in the street, going home and Googling âDoes hugging yourself work?â which is probably the most embarrassing thing about me, and thatâs coming from someone who loves the TV show Bones.Â
No more about that. No time to dilly-dally! Letâs get to readinâ.Â
â¤ď¸ď¸ SWEETIE RATES â¤ď¸ď¸
Couples Therapy
Showtimeâs intimate Couples Therapy is firstly a TV show made for nosy people, and secondly a crash-course in how not to be married.Â
Over three seasons, Clinical Psychologist and Psychoanalyst Orna Guralnik counsels different married and partnered couples as they work through deep-rooted and often painful rifts in their relationships.Â
Orna, the very definition of firm but fair, has an unearthly ability to listen to, condense and explain back the very root of someoneâs issues in mere seconds. Sheâs the Rain Man of trauma.Â
If it sounds like a hard watch â well, it kind of is. But itâs more than worth it. Itâs both heartbreaking and affirming, deeply sad and drenched in optimism. Youâll be hard-pressed not to see parts of yourself within different dynamics depicted. Youâll laugh. Youâll cry. Youâll hope to high heavens that at least two of the couples have broken up since filming took place.Â
Orcas are destroying European boats
Three boats off of the Iberian coast have been sunk by a pod of vengeful orcas, likely led by a pod member who survived a traumatic accident with a boat and is rightfully out for blood. There are only 39 Iberian Orcas left, and they are sl*ts for drama!
Theyâre not just sinking any old boats, either. At least one of the vessels was a yacht. Thank you, Orca comrades. Now, if only we could send them the coordinates of this absolute monstrosity.Â
Orcas are one of smartest animals on the planet, with brains even more complex than ours, and if they want to attack a few boats here and there in their backyard, I say we should let them.Â
Meanwhile, a pair of murderous orcas off the coast of South Africa have also developed a taste for great white sharkâs livers, perfecting a precise method of extracting just the fatty liver and leaving the otherwise-intact shark to die. Thatâs so insane and neat. 10/10 animal.Â
Sleeping on my face
From the genius mind that brought you âthrowing around a laptopâ comes âsleeping on my faceâ. How DOES she do it? Whatâs next, âunpacking the dishwasherâ?
Not a bad idea, actually.Â
Do I know youâre not supposed to sleep on your face? Yes. Is my face becoming kind of lopsided? Yes. Do I wake up with a chest wrinklier than Rod Stewart? Yes. Do I care? No, nobody pays me to maintain my appearance. Yet.Â
For now, I am going to bury my face as physically far into the pillow as I can. I love being in my bed so much I want nothing more than to become one with it, and I will not be stopped.Â
đ SWEETIE HATES đ
The Disappearance of Life-Size
Are you sitting down? Do you have a medic nearby? I have some awful news. The iconique 2000 film Life-Size starring Tyra Banks and Lindsay Lohan has disappeared from streaming. The burning of Alexandria has nothing on this monumental loss. Here, listen to this as you scroll.
While organising an across-the-pond rewatch with my cherished friend and fellow bad film connoisseur Manisha, we discovered that Life-Sized appears to have been completely wiped from the internet. While low-res short clips on YouTube and this famous GIF can still be found, it appears as though Disney has Fahrenheit 451'd one of the most formative television movies of our time.Â
Adding to my budding conspiracy, the 2018 sequel/literally one of the worst movies Iâve ever seen, Life-Size 2 has also been yanked from streaming in most countries, only available to buy for what I consider to be an exorbitant sum ($3.99 USD)... But thatâs not good enough! We the people need the Life-Size universe on-demand, 24/7, 365.Â
What is Joe Bidenâs plan to get Life-Size back on streaming? I cannot shine bright, shine far, cannot not be shy, nor be a star under these conditions.Â
Anthony Albanese
A year ago, almost to the day, I swanned around a (Sydney) Kingâs Cross nightclub announcing to strangers that Labor had won the election and Anthony Albanese was Australiaâs new Prime Minister. Blame it on margaritas, blame it on poor social skills, blame it on misplaced hope, but the indeed-temporary euphoria faded. It didnât take long.Â
Anthony Albanese is a worm. A class traitor. A gormless moron. A false prophet in Australiaâs already-wretched political system. He is the very definition of pulling the ladder up after yourself. If he could, heâd single-handedly catapult every poor person to the moon, saying âI grew up in social housing! My mum was poor!â as he bid them adieu.Â
I once saw him at Stanmore train station many years ago. I didnât like his stupid vibe then and I certainly donât like it now. Though, as the storied lesson goes, you should never trust a DJ. Get wrecked, Tony.Â
r/NYCinfluencersnarkÂ
I hate how oddly fascinated I am by this nasty and often cruel Reddit community. Itâs like a fossilised remnant of the internet of my teenage years, when I would read D-Listed and (humiliatingly) P*r*z H*lton every day.Â
I do not follow any of the influencers the community talks about, I do not comment, up or down vote, I do not have any vested interest in snarking and I donât even share any of the postersâ vitriol. I fiendishly watch the drama unfold and, often, actually end up feeling bad for the influencers being pilloried.Â
I donât know why I find it so addictive. All I know is that I feel a constant compulsion to keep up with Danielle Bernsteinâs messy breakup, Alix Earleâs MAGA past, or Eva Chenâs supposedly filthy car. Itâs like LiveLeak for women in their 30âs.Â
Adios muchachos xxxxx