WTF is “Super Soul Sunday”?
Super Soul Sunday is an Oprah series which, according to the official Super Soul Sunday About page, “delivers a thought-provoking, eye-opening and inspiring block of programming designed to help viewers awaken to their best selves and discover a deeper connection to the world around them.”
Right. But who cares?
The badass in me wants so very badly to say, “Not me, you hippie freak!” But for some reason I am endowed not only with a healthy dose of badassery, but also with an equally large portion of introspection. It’s a conundrum. How am I supposed to come across simultaneously as (a) a snarky bitch who punches douche-bombs in the wiener, and (b) an enlightened soul interested in personal growth? Badass Andi-Roo wants to kick Anti-War Andi-Roo’s ass. Fuck a Super Soul Sunday, know what I’m sayin’?
Putting aside my split-personality issues…
I came across a list of Super Soul Sunday questions which I saved for a personal Sunday perusal. I usually try to do something completely profane, rude, and sacrilegious on my blog on Sundays, because the idea that God gives a crap about our First World, Westernized calendars and days of the week schedules and all that shit is utterly preposterous to the point of gibbering lunacy. So I’m not quite sure why I saved the questions in question…
Oh, all right. JESUS CHRIST.
I’ll come clean, since you’re being such a jerk about it. I saved the Super Soul Sunday fucking questions because the Buddha-loving tree-hugger within my heart wanted to answer them. I had it in my head that I was going to wake up early some morning, take a cuppa out on the deck, and write in my journal as the sun came up through the trees. Which is stupid of me anyway because the deck faces WEST and the house completely blocks the sun rising in the EAST, so I don’t know why the hellz that image as rolling around my brain. But it was, and now you know. Asshole.
And maybe I will still reflect on those Super Soul Sunday questions…
… regardless of which way the house is facing. If I ever do speculate on the meaning of souls and shit like that, it’ll be in the privacy of my diary. (pssst — I don’t even have a diary.)
But no matter what, the badass in me will never allow such self-serving drivel to appear here on a Sunday.
UNLESS IT’S A SPOOF.
Because who doesn’t enjoy a good spoof? You like that? Fuck yeah, you do. I have just the right victim in mind. And? She’s make-believe, so that stuffed little bitch can’t even sue my sorry ass. Andi-Roo FTW!
Before you read this deeply personal Super Soul Sunday interview, you are going to want to go back in time a bit and read about Dolly for Sue, just so that you have a better idea of our relationship. I could sum it up, but don’t be a lazy ass. Just go read it.
Done? Good, slow-poke!
I now give you an exclusive Super Soul Sunday interview with Dolly for Sue (DoS).
DoS: If you’re a HUMAN girl, it’s sugar and spice and everything nice, and is probably composed of some glittery substance. If you’re a DOLLY girl, and your name is Sue, and your best friend kicked you to the curb and sent you to live on an island of creepy toys that never should have been invented, the soul is a hollow in your stuffing that only cigarettes and chocolate can fill. Or so I hear. If you’re a LION named Moonraiser, Fuck You, I forgot the question.
Q: What is your definition of God?
Dos: Santa. He knows if you’ve been bad or good. Some people don’t believe, but those people are ass clowns. The elves are God’s angels. Which makes Herby the devil, because he is all fallen and whatnot. But since he followed through on his promise to get me the fuck off that Santa-forsaken island, I gots no beef with joining the dark side.
DoS: I had an aha! moment when I realized that if I had to listen to that horny Charlie-in-the-Box joke about getting into *MY* box one more time, I was going to slit my fucking wrists. Does that count? Why are you looking at me like that? Did I say something wrong?
Q: What do you believe is the purpose of life?
DoS: It ain’t to go around on square wheels, I can tell you that much, motherfucker. Seriously, though, are we almost done here? I have an appointment to get extensions in my yarn and if I’m late there will be HELL. TO. PAY. if you know what I’m sayin’…
DoS: First, you have to have a housekeeper. I’m serious. A happy life means never having to dust, vacuum, scrub a toilet, or put shit away. If you can afford a housekeeper, and you don’t have one, you’re an idiot. If you can’t afford a housekeeper, I guess the reason for your unhappiness isn’t so much a secret, huh?
Oh, shit. Oh, I’m sorry, Andi-Roo. I didn’t realize you can’t afford a housekeeper. My bad. I just assumed that people who give random interviews are, like, doing okay financially. Here, let me write you a check. Talk about foot-in-mouth, AmIRight?
Q: What is your personal prayer?
DoS: Please, Santa, please-oh-please, keep that asshole lion away from me, or else I’ma cut him into steaks. Never had lion steaks, but I’m always open to new experiences.
Q: What do you think will happen when you die?
DoS: Fortunately for me, I’m kinda immortal, so I don’t really think about depressing shit like that. I have my own problems over here, and all you mortal folks kickin’ the bucket just brings me down, man.
Dos: Bumbles bounce. I seen that shit with my own eyes, dude. Un-fucking-real. Seriously. You had to be there.
Q: Thank you for giving us a little bit of your time, Dolly for Sue. Any parting words of wisdom to offer our readers?
DoS: Yeah, no, thanks for having me. Shit was tight, dawg. And, uh, wisdom, huh? I’d say… hmm… now that’s a toughy. I guess I’d just tell people, you know, wrap it up, because STDs, some of them, they are, like, FOREVER. So, yeah. Anyway, I gotta piss, so… Peace, girl. I’m out.
And there you have it, people. Dolly for Sue, obviously not Catholic, urges guys to wear condoms during their sexual rampages. And thus ends our first edition of Super Un-Real Super Soul Sunday interviews.