No Rules: KIMMY DEE

You know what's hot? Funny chicks.
Madeleine Kahn. Sarah Silverman. Anna Faris. Something about a woman with a raunchy sense of humor, man, it just makes you glad to be alive. And you can add KIMMY DEE to that list.
I first became aware of Kimmy not long ago, through a piece she did for Cracked.com called 5 Scientific Reasons Your Idea of Happiness is Wrong. Insanely funny, and more insightful than it even needed to be. Needless to say, I'm now stalking her (part-time) on line.
Fortunately, Kimmy has a blog, called Turd Mountain, which makes stalking her pretty easy. You should do it, too. It's her personal platform for railing against bad spellers, vapid fashion statements, John Mayer and all other manner of inane popular culture. Oh yeah, there's lots of poop jokes too.
I'm very happy to introduce you to KIMMY DEE...



An early autumn storm crackles feverishly, as the shutters drum against the house. The lights inside flicker, creating a dancing scene of shadowy monsters before darkness swallows the room completely.
I paw at the walls as I slowly make my way to the study. I fumble clumsily at the roll top desk until my hand lands on the book of matches religiously kept in the top drawer.
It takes two strikes, but the match roars to life; its orange orb of light glowing against my hand as I shield it from the breath of the ghost I know is hovering over my shoulder.
Trembling, I light the two candles atop the desk and shake out the match. As the flame takes hold, the dull light melts away my jitters. I carry one candle to the other side of the cozy room and set it on the end table beside my faithful rocker. This corner is my sanctuary.
I wrap myself in the serenity of my favorite quilt, and settle in to begin the latest suspense novel that called out to me. I pull my blanket a little tighter, ready to be swept off to an exciting new world, and…….
The low battery light is flashing on my Kindle.
FUCK.

Pseudo-Noir: Kimmy on Kindle
Modern technology has taken a massive dump on literature, people; and it wiped its stanky ass with elegant prose.
No I don’t actually own a Kindle, or a Nook, E-Reader, or any other version of the contraption. (I’m also not nearly wealthy enough to label a room a study, but I digress.) I choose to read while I exercise, and by that I mean I engage in the strenuous activity of turning pages-not clipping my Kindle to a treadmill or anything pretentious like that.
When the hell did flipping pages become too hard? How lazy has society gotten, that we need a touch-screen, computerized reading machine so that we don’t have to bend our knuckles to get to the next page? What’s next, electronic nose-picker? Automated ass itcher?
And these nefarious little gizmos can read to you now. Yes, you push a button and it reads your selected text aloud. I guess that’s designed for the countless number of people who really enjoy reading, but hate holding a book and looking at a series of letters while conceptualizing them into words.
Don’t give me any of that “saving the environment” crap either. All these deficient devices become toxic waste once they exceed their planned obsolescence period. I’m sure Mother Earth would rather give up a few trees worth of paper than be littered with heaps of radioactive rubbish.
I love how the Kindle advertises its lack of backlighting, stating that it reads more “like a book” than competing needless novelties. You know what else reads like a book? Sheets of printed paper bound together in succession. And they never need charging, downloading, updating, debugging, or any other fancy terms for maintenance—aside from the occasional dust-blowing.
There’s always that awkward moment on the airplane, where a person holding a book is stuck next to someone with a Kindle. They might both be reading the exact same novel, but they exchange smug glances and chuckle to themselves about the ridiculousness of the individual they are stuck sharing stale ass air with for the next four hours.
“Pompous asshole,” mumbles the page-flipper.
“Dirty hippie,” scowls the Kindle connoisseur.
In reality, both people are dysfunctional douchebags because they’re reading Justin Bieber’s First Step 2 Forever. At least Kindle-guy can hide his horrible life decisions from the rest of the world.
And now my worst fears are being realized: many works aren’t even being released in paperback form anymore. I must either put aside my contempt for computerization or miss out completely on some great literature.
So there’s just one thing I have to ask before my soul descends to the dark side….. Can I get one in purple? Because that would be fabulous.