No magazine in America is allowed to put out its October issue without having at least one spread devoted to pink shit.
If you are not sick of the color pink by the end of October then you, my friend, are colorblind. Don't worry. You can still live life like a typically-abled person. You just have to put up with people asking you this question again and again, "But what does it look like to you? I don't understaaaaaaand." I do this to my son and my father at least two times a year.
As decreed by the Women's Service Magazines Law of Bull Shit Product Placement, the October issue of O Magazine features two pages of "fabulous, feel-good products."
No, stop feeling good right now. This is horse shit. Let's peruse the lot.
Women at Risk.
Those are $198 pajamas. Who do you think you are? The Queen of Sheba? You are not. Sleep in one of the 500 T-shirts you have stacked in your closet like a real American, and then send $198 directly to the Breast Cancer Research Foundation.
What are you thinking? These are fugly.
And God knows you don't need another pair of dangly, fugly earrings.
Fuchsia, lizard-skin hexagons? Seriously?
You have horrible taste.
If you have $175 to spend on this tacky shit, you can just hand that $175 over to Planned Parenthood.
First of all, stop it with the gluten-free shit. You do not have Celiac Disease. Just shut it. Stop letting women's magazines convince you that you should eat gluten-free crap.
Now, do you have $55 to spend on a box of cookies? You are going to send $55 directly to the Mission Women's Wellness Center instead and you are going to save yourself 2,400 calories.
Snap out of it.
$358 is a ridiculous amount of money to spend on a purse just so 20 percent of it can go to a good cause.
If you have $358 to spend on a Coach satchel to carry "all your weekend essentials," then you can just hand it over directly to the Breast Cancer Research Foundation.
Everyone knows you have enough goddamn satchels.
And you don't need a special purse for the weekend. Please. You're not the heroine of a chick flick getting whisked away by George Clooney to Lake Como. You're going to the grocery store. Get over yourself.