My name is Courtney.
You know, the truth of the matter is that I really just love everything about this whole Courtney Stodden situation that we have going. I really do. She decided, “Fuck it, I’m going to be famous and I have no regard for…everything so you can all go pound sand while I alliteratively tweet about pounding this aging former actor.” And for some reason I can get behind that. Kim Kardashian and Paris Hilton? Not so much. Why not? I don’t know. Whatever, I don’t need to show my work. QED.
Anyway, here is C-Stodd standing on a hill, dressed like Marilyn Monroe while wearing stripper shoes and struggling against the vaginal physics that enable camel toe. This is a battle she is clearly beginning to lose. Camel toe aside, I do have two questions about this whole thing:
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Who is in charge of Marilyn Monroe’s estate, and why do they keep allowing people to dress up like her? Lindsay Lohan does this like, what…4 times a week and then I have to read about it on Gawker? Christ, would some lawyer step up and put an end to all of this and let poor Marilyn rest in peace? Does the responsibility for this fall entirely on my shoulders? Fuck, I was really hoping to avoid law school.
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Where does Courtney Stodden get her money? From what I can piece together all she does is hangout at home in lingerie and pose for ridiculous photo shoots all over LA. Photo shoots that aren’t commissioned by anyone. Does her mom still give her an allowance? Doug Hutchinson’s Green Mile money had to have dried up in 1999. Why doesn’t she work at Burger King like every other 17-year-old? I guess I really don’t understand the economics of being Courtney Stodden. This troubles me.
Whatever, I’m going to stop thinking about Stoddenomics now and get started on that goddamn law school application, I guess.
