Here’s The Problem: Rob Kardashian Getting Naked

Here’s The Problem: Rob Kardashian has been asked to pose naked in Playgirl Magazine. Yes please. I love him and I want to lick him. Too much info? Too damn bad!

Actual Problem: What if his junk is like, a problem? What if I buy this magazine, see it and am totally turned off and have to have Cougar fantasies about someone else? Who’s next on the list????

Here’s The Problem: Madonna and Prince

Here’s The Problem: Madonna and Prince have apparently ended their feud! Did you know that they once dated? Yes….I’m confused (not as confused as Prince but that’s a different problem). Anyhow, the oldest living pop star and the Prince have mended their friendship and I know that all their fans are excited.

Actual Problem: Why would anyone in the WORLD give a shit that these two old as fuck, spandex wearing, AARP card carrying fools even had a fued in the first place?????

Here’s the Problem: Jennifer Aniston Is Strangely More Appealing

She can't be a lush. She's obviously an Asian pop star.

Here’s the Problem:  The National Enquirer ran a story about how Janiston needs to go to rehab because she drinks at home alone sometimes.  Welcome to the club, bitch.

Actual Problem:  So what?  I need a half of a bottle of wine to get through Grey’s Anatomy on a Sunday morning (not counting last year’s finale – that ep required a fifth of Jack and a syringe).

Here’s the Problem: Kat Von D/Jesse James Engagement

Here’s the Problem:  Jesse James announced his engagement to Kat Von D today.  Our best wishes to everyone involved.  Especially the inked up fetuses she’ll be spitting out soon.

Actual Problem:  There is no other culture than the one of fucked up reality television where a man can go from being married to the most darling Oscar winner of our generation, to a tattoo parlor owner.

Here’s The Problem: Hot and Drunk

Here’s The Problem: Thanks to insomnia and the fact that I’m getting old and can no longer pass out when I’m drunk – I got to watch the season premiere of Hot in Cleveland 2x last night! I gave it a woozy, boozy, 2 thumbs up!  But then – as 2am, 3am and then 4am came creeping around and I was STILL awake, I started to ponder this whole Hot In Cleveland deal. Like, maybe I should move and be Hot in Bellevue or Hot in Poughkeepsie? And I could take Lisa with me and we could grab one other friend (maybe one that’s a little less attractive – you know, just to give us the leg up) and then we’d need an old lady….ok maybe this plan and this problem are making no sense.

 

Actual Problem: Yup – still drunk.

Here’s the Problem: No Beiber Store at The Grove

Here’s the Problem:  Dear 13 year old girls and Drew Sutton.  I am terribly sorry to report the news that plans for a Justin Beiber store at The Grove have fallen through.   You’ll have to get your lesbian wigs elsewhere.

Actual Problem: The American Girl Store is still there, so it’s not really much of a loss.

Here’s The Problem: $10,000 Boots

Here’s The Problem: While shopping this weekend I came across this boot. It’s a Stuart Weitzman, Swarovski-studded, thigh high boot. Want to know how much it costs? $10,000. It’s custom fitted for those lucky few who can afford to have such an amazing(?) piece of footwear crafted for them. Rihanna wore them on tour and only one pair has been sold – in a NORDSTROM in Chicago or something (I know all of these tidbits because I shop with a person who loves to chat with the sales people…..)

Actual Problem: If hookers across America combined their trick money they still could not afford these ridic boots.

Here’s the Problem: The Public (aka, Sam) Reacts to Ted Williams

Here’s the Problem:  Ted Williams’ fame went through all 12 destructive stages in a matter or 72 hours.  Take that Lindsay!

Actual Problem:  Alright – take it away Sam…

Sam: So I saw the “Here’s the Problem” about that Ted Williams guy.

I knew the minute I saw him on the morning show circiut that the media was going to tear him down with the over-hyped ferocity that they built him up.

OF COURSE instant success and money is going to be too much for a homeless alcoholic to handle.

Then I was in the dentist chair yesterday and saw his family or whatever on Dr. Phil saying they’ve seen him drink recently

Fuck Doctor Phil!

And fuck early morning talk shows!  They should get back to filling their time with stories about ‘hidden calories in your salad’ and don’t tear this poor man apart.

BAM!  File’s Done!!

Here’s the Problem: Oh No You Didn’t AC Slater!!!

Here’s the Problem: Doesn’t AC Slater just make you so mad sometimes?!  He’s such a macho pig and has stupid hair and stupid muscles and calls Jessie “hot momma” and changed his name to get into the military academy (seriously, it was Sanchez, look it up).    And I’m not the only one who feels this way.  Another strong willed and logical individual (name unknown) was so upset by this douchebag (slash fictional character) that he did the only thing he could.  He went into a sports bar in Chicago called Mullets and broke a framed photo of Slater in the bathroom.  Yeah!  That’ll show ‘em.  Whoever ‘em are…

Actual Problem:  Come forward brave man, purveyor of truth.  I think we just found the new governor of Illinois.

Here’s the Problem: What’s Your Sign? CALM THE FUCK DOWN!

Here’s the Problem:  The moon is freaking out or has it’s period or something and so now there are new astrological signs.  NOW.  There are new astrological signs NOW.  Because that’s what astrology is about – being born during some sort of moon.  If you were born 24 years ago (and you weren’t, it was 28) this doesn’t apply to you. None of this matters.

Actual Problem:  None of this matters anyway.  It’s your fucking astrological sign.  You show me the last star chart you referenced and I’ll give you a bye on the freakout, but if you’re just concerned because you have an old issue of  Cosmo that said this was the weekend you were supposed to meet the man of your dreams and now you’re worried it won’t happen because you’re a fucking Ophiucus, get the hell over it.

 

**Special Thanks to Austin Keenan, who I have overheard (overseen?) leading the charge of calming people down one tweet at a time.