Everytime I watch My Super Sweet Sixteen I wish for rocks to fall on the heads of the birthday girls, dream up horrible STDs to infest their golden Chanel-ladden vaginas and pray that they find some sort of horrifying end, maybe trapped in a well somewhere with only a Dodge Neon to rescue them. Spoiled bitches with a little too much baby fat from all those Wendy’s Frosties they sneak.
I hate them so much, which is why I TiVo every tormentuous minute of their show.
So needless to say I was overjoyed to learn that when some plump pops went to town on a lavish birthday celebration for his cow-daughter Ariel (ugh, name-vomit), all the people he screwed over on bogus oil deals took notice, and now his ass is in trouble, as is Ariel’s new BMW/Range Rover/Jaguar/Mercedes/Hummer.
Ariel, is quoted on the show as saying, “My dad owns his own oil company. He has oil wells all over the world. I love oil. Oil means shoes and cars and purses…So it sets me apart from everybody else in this town. . . . It smells like money, Daddy!”
Now the only oil Ariel will love is the stuff she pumps from the tiny blackheads on her face. Good luck affording some Proactiv, Ariel!