Wow so many issues to parse out from this banner year. We were gifted with the ability to freak out about a different thing every single second of the day. We were blessed with abundance. But going into the new year I want to Marie Kondo a lot of 2017’s bullshit and leave it behind. If it doesn’t bring me joy, it isn’t going to see 2018. And with that in mind it is my will to leave Kellyanne Conway in this year. I will it so. It is my will. It will be done.
I know Kellyanne is widely hated but I am confident I hate her more than anyone else. She brings me no joy. In fact she robs me of my ability to bring anyone else joy. She is a joy thief.
I am not going to attack her policy. That would be too big of me. I am feeling small and mean and want to attack superficial things about her that will make me feel good. Because if we’re being honest nothing I write here will take her down. She has sunk her claws deep into the protective plastic covers of the White House couches she puts her feet on and I see no way to remove her. Instead I will roast her.
Kellyanne Conway looks like the evil stepmom in a live-action Disney movie who is marrying the dad for his lucrative lumber business.
Kellyanne Conway sounds like someone who has returned to Starbucks to let them know she is leaving a bad Yelp review because they were playing music with curse words on the speakers. She then proceeds to type out the Yelp review on her blackberry in front of them, asking each employee how they spell their names. She still spells their names incorrectly. She demands a new drink. Extra whipped cream. Skinny.
There is a photo of Kellyanne Conway doing her daughter’s hair, which is nice. It is nice when moms groom their daughters. I could almost leave this alone because I don’t think kids should be brought into this brawl but Kellyanne Conway decided that in the background of this photo to have another photo of herself wearing a velvet and fur hooded cape. Bitch what. It looks like she went to some like Victoria Secret sponsored old-timey photo booth at Dollywood.
Kellyanne needs to add some dimensions to her hair. Highlights. Lowlights. A pink streak. It’s not 1995, add depth!
Kellyanne doesn’t have strong female friendships.
Kellyanne tries to get the nickname KiKi to stick. It does not stick.
I do like Kellyanne’s gold hoops. Those are nice. But any sad girl with $7 and a Claire’s in walking distance from their house can get those hoops so nice try, Kellyanne. I’d like those hoops if they were on a chicken. In fact, I’d prefer them on a chicken. That would be very funny and make a great Instagram.
If somehow the negative energy of this post manifests into harming her career, then my work here is done. If not, then I feel a bit lighter getting all of this off my chest and am ready to enter the new year. Namaste.