Pictured: at left, moi. At right, Lambchop.

Oh, I kid, I kid! But this reminds me, someone is having a birthday soon. What to get her this year, besides my customary boudoir photo set? I wonder if she needs any new housewares for her chamber of horrors? The one month anniversary is the corkscrew anniversary. I think we can officially say the horrors are no longer makeshift.

If Lindsay Lohan were my friend, I would be the pal who knows what she really could use: a jug of baby urine, for surprise drug tests. We would probably eat prescription drugs like Skittles and get in a slap fight. Come to think of it, this is actually similar to many of my most prized relationships. Call me, girl. I am also good at credible court testimony and impromptu eulogies.

I am noticing a very real national epidemic: people have no idea that they do not know everything. The Dunning-Kruger effect has swept the population, leading to pitiful displays of assumed prowess and total lack of awareness of failure. This issue directly relates to the complete inability to distinguish good from bad. Some people are so quality blind that even when presented with a dire test case, like our Lohan diptych, they still may not be able to discern which Lindsay is the complete trainwreck. You could always argue both of them, as one harbors deep-seated intentions to become a trainwreck. Pre-crime.

How can you avoid falling on your face in public? Well, you probably can’t. That’s the good news. You just have to accept that in all certainty, you will fail, and you should accept the counsel of your betters, if you can even tell who those are. Knowing you may fail is liberating. Assuming you will not and then not recognizing when you have actually must be pretty peachy too, judging from the affable countenances of many I encounter on the regular. If you are not horrified most of the time, you’re probably doing it wrong.

Happy Friday! No, it’s Fuck You Friday!