Supeer Sweet Sixteen: Or a Tale of the Sloppy, Snobby Sophie-Bitch

She looks mildly retarded, if you ask me. But this is Sophia, star of the premiere of quite possibly the most insipid MTV reality show yet: My Super Sweet Sixteen. But I know what you're thinking, and yes, I know: Ari had to have watched the show to deem it insipid. Guilty as charged. I was sick in bed and was quite literally sucked in (look at the pie-hole on that one, kids!). I do not usually write about things not directly related to my life, nor do I advocate watching bad reality TV, let alone on MTV, but this was just too appalling to pass up. That's saying something, because I am not shocked easily.

So here's the premise of the show. Over-indulged little snot gets to have a birthday party that usually costs more cheese than most people make in a year. This one, I'm hoping, is as bad as it gets in terms of how spoiled the kids are. Anyway, let's get on with it...

Sophie: preppy 15-year old private school snob (I can say that, I went to private school) from West Palm Beach, FL. As far as you can tell, she lives alone with her veterinarian mom who is, well, white. It's not a huge deal, but I noticed that the idea is never addressed in the show, as if someone might mention it to Sophie, she would gasp and exclaim something like, "Are you kidding? Get the fuck out! Take back that horrible insult!" and then maybe keel over and die. Because, aside from Sophie, the show turns out to be pretty much lily white, and Sophie does not register the fact that she is any different, which brings me to my next gripe...

Sophie's Hair!

Okay, it was a cheap shot, but this is seriously a close approximation. Somebody get that chick a hotcomb! Look, I know what it's like to be the one of only a few black girls and live in a place where very few hairdressers know how to "deal with" my hair. Still, that girl has more money at her disposal than any 15-year-old should, so there's really no excuse. I'm just going to blame her racial identity issues. Sorry, Sophia, it will not turn blonde and straight, so stop praying for the day that it will. You can't change the hair you were born with, but you can change a couple things...like you could drop forty pounds (those Dunkin Donuts and Moolattes go straight to your middle, apparently), and you could also adjust...

(Sophie and her blonde mom...still can't figure that one out. But for a designer dress, you could find one that don't make her boobs look fat and floppy...)

Sophie's Stank-Ass Attitude!
Once, in a department store, I saw a child slap her mother across the face for making her pick one sweater instead of buying two. I thought that woman was the worst mother in the world...until I saw Sophie's mom on TV. This woman is the obviously the source of the trouble. She lets the kids walk all over her, telling her to "shut up", "stop being annoying," and yelling and screaming all the time. Keep in mind this is the woman signing the check for the damn party.

The mother pays for the party, a new car, and whatever else Sophie asks for, despite several verbal assaults. I guess my question is, what happened to a good old-fashioned ass-whooping? Seriously, let's entertain the idea for just a second that my parents would throw such a party for me... if I dared utter a disrespectful retort, not only would the party be off but my mother would personally ensure that I could not sit down on my rear end for at least a week.

But Sophie is a bitch to everyone...so I guess her mother just takes it. Sucker.

BOTTOM LINE: If you happen to be home when it reruns, just try to watch without wanting to backhand the selfish little twit. And you know what my punishment will be for bad-mouthing her? I'm gonna have a daughter who is Sophie reincarnated. God have mercy on me.

Sowing the Oats: Or Things I Must Do Before Settling Down

I've been thinking a lot lately. I should grow up. I should settle down. With one person. Knock out a couple rugrats. Call it a day.

But before I do, there are some very important things I must take care of. Stuff I haven't gotten to in life. Stuff I'll always wonder about if I don't ever do it. So here it is, a list of five absolute "musts" before Ari retires from the playalistic life:

1. Live alone/Live with another girl. Don't get me wrong, I love my roomie D to death, but the thought of going straight from living with him to living with another bundle of testosterone is more than my feminine mystique can handle. I like my home clean, toilet seats down, sinks free of stubble, and everything smelling nice and flowery, thankyouverymuch.
2. Conquer the "hit list." Don't even act like you don't have one. You may have not consciously made it like I did, but somewhere in your mind, there's a list of people you're attracted to, a "wish list" if you will. You know for certain it probably wouldn't work out long-term, but you've just gotta find out "what if" or die trying. My hit list, I'll admit, is quite ambitious and even a tad lengthy, but I'm on it. And I'm not talking about sex, for those of you quick to slap the "ho" label on my forehead. It could be some juvenile hand holding, a make out session, or even just blurting out, "You know, I was always hot for you." It's cathartic, really. I highly recommend everyone get in touch with their inner hit list.
3. Go back to school. This should be interesting, since I currently enjoy not being broke and have not studied for anything in over two years, and thus lack the motivation to do so.
4. Own a house and/or car, all on my own. Because I gotta have my own shit together before I add my name to somebody else's bad credit.

And last but not least...

5. Spend a weekend (or longer) completely in the nude. By my damn self. Because it might be the first and last time I can do it before being tackled by a significant other...

Thank you. That is all.