Snarla Sledgehammer isn’t known for being subtle. She’s made her name—some say living—by being entirely in-your-face, whether you deserve it or not. And in the so-hip arena of blogging/TV commentary, the multitalented, attractive-enough babe (who’s got more hair than style sense, to be brutally Snarla-esque about it) currently shines, struts and reigns supreme. But then again, that arguable pro point’s hardly the thrust of this Vice.
Several years ago, SSH had a child, Spawna Sledgehammer. Lovely kid, really, but due to Snarla’s overzealous prioritizing of all things kiddie, turned out Ms. S couldn’t even take a dump without consulting her offspring’s homework schedule, much to the chagrin of Snarla’s friends and colleagues, who became increasingly frustrated with being cast aside—always in the name of playdates, and such. Snarla became reliable for snapping at her fancyass fellow workers not to interfere with her all-holy maternal duties. Not wise. But then she made the truly unfortunate choice of repeating the same self-obsessed behavior with trusted confidantes, including Pete Priss-Ass, a well-known fagola fellow boob-tuber and writer, whom Spawna had always leaned on for lengthy bitch sessions.
Much to the shock of many, Pete—not exactly a choosy customer in the great grocery store of love (he often squeezed melons he really shoulda stayed away from)—got himself engaged. Stunned, but more so ecstatic, PPA rang up his good amiga, whom he adored, and, absolutely beaming over the phone, invited Snarla & fam to the small, out-of-state ceremony.
“It’s not convenient,” was SSH’s first reaction. No congrats. No words of good-wishing gooeyness, just a thorough chastising for Pete’s thoughtlessness in selecting a wedding date not conducive to—you guessed it—Spawna’s activity schedule. Ouch! Does Pete have some kinda S&M thing going for his friendships, or did he just not get the memo that hetero day-planning always trumps homo?