Somebody somewhere told me a lie about life. They didn’t tell me it was fair, but they told me that certain behaviors would be rewarded, and that certain others wouldn’t. So imagine my surprise when I find myself in my twenty-fourth year of life, a nice single lady, reading news on the internet that tells me that certified strange-o Octomom has been dating some guy for the past two months. Aha! A-HA! I cackled, ready to look at pictures of some trailerpark meth-head who wants to be famous…but no. I see pictures of a strangely attractive male, a 23-year old body-builder named Frankie G, who is making actual physical contact with Octomom, as if the touch of her skin isn’t repulsive and medically damaging. They appear to be having a lovely relaxed beach day together while Children’s Services works on their case.
This is all very confusing to me. It turns everything that I previously understood about dating and attractiveness on its head. On the one hand there is me. I am a reasonably attractive, intelligent, self-aware female. On the other hand there is Nadya Suleman. Nadya is a strange-faced, deluded, fame-seeking crazy person. I have no babies, she has fourteen babies. I have have two jobs, she has no jobs. I have done no porns, she has done one porn. I have had no plastic surgery, she has had all the plastic surgery. (She literally used it all up. There’s not even any left for Courteney Cox.) See, I took math in school, and I’m looking at that equation I laid out, and I’m thinking I should win, right? WRONG. She has a boyfriend and I have a…blogfriend.
At this point, I’m not even mad that I’m single, I’m mad that she’s not. It’s none of my business, but what are we doing encouraging this woman? Are you gonna tell me that her lifestyle is seriously attractive to someone? That Frankie G has spent his twenty-three years of life hoping to meet someone who’s doing a ‘self-pleasure’ porn to make enough money so that her house where her fourteen kids go to the bathroom outside won’t be repossessed? REALLY. You really think you’d still be dating this trainwreck if she wasn’t famous?
UGH. Shut up, Frankie G. Go lift some heavy things and think about what you’ve done to America.