The #CashMeOusside Girl Is a Late-Capitalist Superhero
This chick deserves your money more than the dispensary does, and you know it, deep deep down where the feelings happen.
Let’s get desperately honest: The experiment that was the United States has been dead for some time, and we’ve been feeding off the rotting corpse like fat, slimy, happy maggots for a couple of decades. Like, to the point where you don’t even really care about the repeal of Glass Steagall or Citizens United when a TSA agent has her sausage fingers buried up your asshole, digging for your social media passwords, you know?
More people have an opinion about Aaron Hernandez than know that Trump still hasn’t filled 3/4 of his cabinet because a defining characteristic of a dictator is that he just lets his family do shit instead of bothering with checks and balances. Nobody’s noticed that it’s illegal for the government or a company to keep track of your library checkouts, but now that libraries are all but obsolete, your browser history is fair game. Orwell would be one big human seizure if he were alive right now.
It is tempting to look at the symptoms and see the disease, but a dysentery patient doesn’t die of the shit he leaves all over the church pews, he dies first of embarrassment and then of water starvation.
Similarly, America isn’t dying of Kardashitis C. The famously famous for being famous might look like genital warts on the unkempt pubis that is Americana, but the disease causing the perfectly coiffed, crayon approximations of culture is very obviously late-stage, unchecked capitalism. And Facebook is the orgy at which you’re all gleefully exchanging it like it’s the Road Warrior’s last Fraggle Pebble.
Sorry, George Miller, your apocalypse wasn’t hyperbolic enough.
The latest genius vulture at the carcass is young Danielle Bregoli. She stunned the target audience of Dr Phil by being 13 and rude to a member of the target audience of Dr Phil – – a mother without shit to do. In other words, what she did is only news in the way that your sister’s infected hang nail is news to the other lunch ladies.
The Shit Show
The only thing Dr Phil has a legitimate doctorate in is “shit show,” which is a term that desperately needs reclaiming by the real world. That term, shit show, is usually reserved for cloddish metaphor about a proceeding the speaker deems unworthy, for the sake of whatever prejudices she hasn’t earned. But we have real world examples of shit shows, shows that are shit trolling, they make up our daytime TV lineup.
Look, if you can tell the difference between Dr Phil and fucking Maury on a daily basis, you’re on another physical plane than the rest of us. You can probably name the cast of Days Of Our Lives circa 1989, as well. That’s not to say they don’t deserve their slots, or that you shouldn’t watch them, or that your daytime soap knowledge has zero value – – you should just be aware that nothing of any global, national, or even local importance ever happened on any of those shows. Except for Ellen. She’s the ambassador for the real world to your ironing board.
And, as always, screw this piece of trash directly in the most uncomfortable place he has.
They exist for the purpose of trolling distractable people who aren’t fully engaged with the real world, and who probably want to lose weight or poop regularly or find a date. Or, like Whoopi, have unconsidered worldly opinions as broad as the gap in Michael Strahan’s teeth.
Which brings us to CashMeOusside. You can “cashup” by watching the video if you’re a normal person who hasn’t had the opportunity to devote attention to how one of a million shitty teenagers treats her shitty mom.
The girl has an attitude that might traditionally be described as “adult,” but my motto remains “fuck tradition,” and I’m intentionally not breeding so it’s none of my damned business. Or yours, for that matter. She has also developed a charming patois for herself, which sounds like what an Amish improv enthusiast would develop having heard cursory accounts of the habits of suburban hip hop fans from a white minister, mid-stroke. She is also pretty shitty to her mom – – on a literal, branded shit show her mom brought her to be shitty at her on, so let’s get this out of the way: Zero tolerance for any mother sympathy here.
Gonna have to stop you there, Matt. I have 2 words for you: “CashMeOusside HowBouDah.” Do you know that incredibly infectious catch phrase from somewhere other than the talented mouth of the talented Ms Danielle Bregoli? Are you insinuating it isn’t a talent to take advantage of America’s obsession with the Human Dumpster Fire and get rich as Uncle Scrooge?
Feeling Better About Ourselves
Here’s the latest from CashMe@TheBankMofo:
Indeed, what are we doing with our lives? She’s a million percent right. She just got philosophical on all of you, and you’re too busy Herbal Essencing in each others’ self-congratulatory spooge to realize she’s owning you. Look at these real life answers people have given to this extremely relevant, distractingly poignant question:
I left his surname in because it isn’t real and fuck him, it’s a public comment, go make him miserable if you want.
Over two thousand likes for that pseudonymed dipshit’s self-aggrandizing Facebook diarrhea. I am in the wrong business, I should just start patting myself on the back under an assumed name for doing the bare minimum in life. America’s obsession with equating hard work with wage slavery, and equating wage slavery with being some species of ethical is damned near sarcastic at this point. “I work for my money.” Well then wipe that smirk off your face, you’re clearly a fucking chump. How’s that working out for you, Second Mortgage?
The point is that it’s working out for almost nobody. Does this barmy collaborator even realize what he is advocating, in this day and age? He wants this child to… what? Wait on making her nut until she’s educated, in debt, overworked, and bred like a broodmare? Por que? Who in their right mind, toiling away in the stinking carcass that used to be America, would give up a perfectly good, legally offered, stay-at-home-mother endorsed (they’re the ones tuning in, remember) opportunity to drag themselves out of the horse shit you’re half-bitching you have to deal with every day?
Break down what this dingbat just said:
– There’s no suggestion Bregoli won’t pay her taxes as well as you.
– It’s not her fault you spawned more of yourself, and my guess is that the little genius would ask you kindly not to, given the opportunity.
– Who knows? She might not blow her money, that’s idle speculation. What do they pay for idle speculation down at the toil plant? She might get a financial adviser who will show her how not to be an overworked, self-important enema cannon like you.
And since we’re throwing about hypotheticals, I think you probably do want your kids to be Feces Pieces* just like the lovely and talented Danielle, so you can stop grouching and cash in.
A lot of the ire thrown at the consummately adroit CashMeOusside girl has to do with this other, irretrievably stupid tradition of respecting ones elders, which only seems to come up when someone old enough to know better wants to be pompous online. Mandatory respect for your elders nowadays is like compulsorily trusting your kid with the local priest: If I owned an insurance company, the years of therapy that will most likely be required would not be covered, that’s your own damned fault.
She’s a ‘damned fool’ for being disrespectful? To whom? Her mom, who immediately cashed in on the merch sales and appearance fees from her daughter “disrespecting” her? The one that seemingly fist fights her kid or joins in her kids’ fist fights? If this is your position, you’ve been fucking had. Anybody that’s ever trained a dog knows you don’t establish dominance and command respect by wrestling it. You definitely don’t let it win. You know, unless you plan to enter it into something more ching ching official.
Not that the exceptionally au fait Danielle Burpychili is a dog. She’s a lovely young lady that is the future of our great country.
The stank of Baby Boomer entitlement is all over this turd. You squat over a global mess your generation created, squirt out an “ungrateful” brood that can stick its collective finger up and feel the way the wind is blowing, and you deserve respect and the ability to cash in on the symptom? Pick one: You’re the long-suffering mother of a daytime TV out-of-control teen, or you’re Kris Jenner with crappy hair.
An aside: fuck anyone that uses the euphemism “ass whooping” to brag about how their parents beat them and turned them into the pieces of shit they are. Does that kid in your profile pic know how close he is to being handed over to “child welfare,” Stephanie?
Lookit all the morals on the retiree that indulges in high fructose schadenfreude that a little girl will be homeless. Those are blood-margaritas you’ll be sipping Kimberly! “In ten years, you’ll fall asleep on your beach and wake up with a 2nd degree sunburn HAHAHAHA!” Feel good, Kimberly?
No but for real, look what capitalism has done to us. How we make money is directly tied to our morals somehow, but you have to have some or you’re lazy, there’s no cap on the amount a person can “earn,” but earning can mean capital gains gambling but it can’t be 20 minutes of shitty TV, and destitution is a worthy punishment for being 14 and having a gimmick. Holy mother of conveniently fluid double standards, Batman.
And again, I wonder aloud, what has your near fluency in your native tongue done for you, Kimberly? How many blankets with your face have sold for 250 smackaroons?
Here’s a few more for the dead horse:
Oh, shit, let me sign up for the ‘Chris Seminar for Getting Rich and Famous!’ You’re not? When does your mix tape drop? I’m just curious because this implies you can, in fact get rich and famous. One of the most truthful quotes I’ve ever heard is by John Steinbeck. “Socialism never took root in America because the poor see themselves not as an exploited proletariat, but as temporarily embarrassed millionaires.” I’m going to call it here: Chris isn’t going to be rich and famous. But fuck you for getting rich and famous.
“I don’t want to be some kind of KARDASHIAN who’s rich for being rich.” Who are you trying to convince? Yes you do! You wish you’d thought of it first! It’s written all over your desperate doth-protests-overmuches.
Here’s Mary Ann, with the real analysis.
Music these days! These. Days. I want to see a death match between “respecting your elders” and “music these days.” Dude, you’re 24 if you’re even an adult. And again I allow the gifted and talented Danielle Jerseyshorename ask: Watchu doin’ with your life? Who is incredibly stupid here, really? You jealous.
Considering the sad that is positively bleeding out these women’s every face orifice, they were pretty responsible with their use of ellipses. “Sad as it is” some people can’t stomach witnessing moderate success without savaging their beans to the idea that person’s life will one day be miserable, and the mantra they repeat to themselves every morning in their sad Pert Plus showers about money not buying happiness will be justified. Fuck this little girl, she must suffer that I might lie to myself! You know what I have to say to Chrissy and Michelle.
Cashmeoussidegirl is holding up a mirror to all of you, and you refuse to look in it. You’re like Hillary, casting about in the woods for a Russian or a Berniebro to blame for losing what in retrospect should have been the easiest election ever. This is you bashing on a fucking child like it’s a vegetable shaped pinata and congratulating yourself for it. And that child happens to be a black belt nihilist philosopher, a wunderkind, a perfect natural talent. And it kills you, because she did in thirteen years what you living your whole life under the capitalist yoke couldn’t even start comprehending outside of your deepest subconscious. Nancy Pelosi Borged the hell out and told you resistance was futile, that we’d always be this way, so screw it: it’s literal witch burning time. Danielle Bregoli’s not stupid, she’s not a brat, she’s not disrespectful, she speaks English perfectly fine, and she hasn’t been cursing cats to eat from your bird feeder in some midnight ceremony. She’s you, but better. Go ahead, toss her in the lake to see if she floats.