"And Just Like That", Jessica forget her suicide pack in "If Lucy Fell"

 Hold onto your eye rolls, folks, because we're about to peel back the layers of selective memory in the world of the rich and famous and dissect the glamorous strut of Carrie Bradshaw in "Sex and the City." 

Guess who found an oldie but a goodie:

The cringeworthy gem that the wise old internet seems to have misplaced, "If Lucy Fell." Oh, you can search high and low on IMDb or Wikipedia, but you won't find it there. A standing ovation for Ms. Parker's masterclass in blatant hypocrisy, anyone?

Let's dive into the cinematic treasure chest that is "If Lucy Fell." In this delightful piece of forgotten history, our dear Jessica's character dives headfirst into a pact to off themselves if they don't snag some love action by a certain deadline. But wait for it, drumroll please – she's now back in action, headlining "And Just Like That," the reincarnation of "Sex and the City" that's all about unicorns, rainbows, and sipping cosmos. Did she misplace her suicide pact along with her memory? Or is it just a case of choosing which skeletons to keep hidden?

Oh, the irony! To see someone who once starred in a film where "loveless" apparently meant "lifeless" now basking in the glory of NYC glam and giggles. Did Carrie Bradshaw get hit with a magical memory-erasing wand, or did she just decide to do a selective brain cleanse?

Let's give credit where credit is due – we've all got a laundry list of moments we'd rather not parade around. But oh, Ms. Parker, you've taken it to a whole new level of audacity. It's like she's hoping we're all too busy swooning over her Carrie comeback to notice her previous questionable choices. Hats off, Jessica, you're truly a master of illusion!

So, to all those big shots who believe their past can be buried under piles of fancy designer clothes, take a lesson from Sarah Jessica Parker – the grandmaster of the "Oh, you thought I'd remember that?" school of thought. Own up to your past messes, because guess what? We're not here to play amnesia with you.

Until we gather again to rip apart the glittery facade of Hollywood, remember folks, your past is like a pesky paparazzo – always lurking and ready to flash those unflattering shots. Stay real, stay salty, and keep calling out the hypocrites!

"If Lucy Fell", was fucking awesome. 

And if you have not seen other Eric Schaeffer movies, you would be dick because his poetry is next level!!


7-11 NOW Was Good Until this Pasty White Boy

 I surprised myself that I did not slap the living daylights out of this pasty, white, ginger boy.

His infuriatingly smug look deserved a solid beatdown. All I offered was the harshest review he had ever encountered in his life, unless he left the delivery with a 30 percent tip.

My birthday was just the other day, and I had my current passport with me. It was smart of him to take it, because I had so much going on. This cocky little guy, upon seeing the size of my house, thought he would put a rich person in their place. Unfortunately, I am not the rich one. I am the co-dependent asshole to a narcissistic Mother.

And that aside, fucking where is your judgement 7-11 NOW delivery drivers? Clearly I am over the 21 year old threshold even with an expired license by 3 days.

You are on my ban list and no company has ever gotten off of it!

Se fucking context to why I am so sick of sub-contractors and delivery people thinking I owe them a fucking salary in tips!

This house is an absolute nightmare. My dad passed away five years ago, and my mother refuses to sell this massive 8,000-square-foot house with a pool and two acres of lawn that constantly needs maintenance.

I could be just as heartless as her and let this place go. I could let her move to a nursing home in Texas, where she would likely be mistreated. As much as I want to believe I'm strong enough and cruel enough to abandon the woman who was the bane of my existence and made my life a living hell...

I am not that ugly, only lash out when pushed.

I pay for the upkeep of this house and my sisters who do nothing are just waiting on a quick-sell and check.

They conveniently disappear when it comes to this woman - known as Mother. They know she was a problem and are simply waiting for their cut of the 8 million dollars.

No, it's just me! And why?

Because that wicked woman took everything she could from all of us. I'll be damned if she squanders away this house that my Dad worked hard to build. And quite frankly the bitch does owe us something. She only had us when she thought my Dad wanted to leave her.

Gold-digger bitch 101: children are just there to keep the man and the money.

So, exercise extreme caution if you plan to bring your smug little face to my Mother's house and think you can treat me as poorly as my mother did in the past.

You ignorant, foolish Gen Z 7-11 delivery shit!


Was Mr. Big a Big Mistake? Yes! And Not for the Reasons You Think!

The hate being flung at a damn fictional character is so wild, I'm wondering if the folks binge-watching "And Just Like That" might need to binge-watch their own life choices for a sec.

So, what? You've never had the pleasure of dating someone who sucked more life out of you than your vacuum does crumbs from under the sofa? Congrats on winning at life, champ.

Abused women get the memo. Hell, they wrote it. They've been with these "prize" men.

Oh, and let's chat about Mr. Big. His fairy tale credential is showing up in a limo? Really? Throw me a tiara and call me Cinderella because I've ridden in an UberX. Does that make my driver my knight in shining armor? Have you even blinked during the entire series?

Aidan was the golden boy; we all freaking knew it. But, of course, Mr. Big had to play the emotional yo-yo, reeling her in and out whenever his lonely ass felt like it. Remember the crap fest he repeatedly dumped on her, then played the "But baby, I need you now" card?

And who's this special snowflake viewer throwing shade at Carrie for the cash Big left her? Was she supposed to be like, "Oh no, dirty money, ew!" She didn't off him. Chill.

And let's be crystal: half these keyboard warriors on social media would wrestle a bear for a nickel. You really think they'd say no to inheritance money from an Aunt or Uncle they wouldn't even send a "Happy Arbor Day" card to?

Ripping into a make-believe character? For the love of sanity, grow the FUCK UP and get a hobby! Maybe knitting? It's very therapeutic.