I suffered a temporary lapse of judgment, why go good when I do bad so well? A bitter freckled face can’t change her spots, I present my list of wretchedness and rot:

Celebrities griping about their offspring being photographed: The worst celebrity crusade, founded by outrageously overpaid actor Halle Berry, is the anti-paparazzi bill passed by the California state assembly. Backed by phonies like Kristen Bell, man-child Dax Shepherd and perpetually sour-faced Jennifer Garner, it reeks of hypocrisy. While it was amusing to watch Jen Garner sob while passionately speaking about  her children’s privacy being ravaged, the whole thing stinks. Celebrities, stop naming your children silly words, touting your body- after- baby transformations, shilling your kids’ first baby pictures to national magazines and touting the inflated wonders of breastfeeding, and we’ll stop looking at your brats’ pictures in the tabloids.

Also, we all know that these same stars will be peddling their kids to us in eleven years when they push them into the family biz, so can’t we get it over with now? Let’s get the Oscar shot so that we can all ooh and awe over it when little Violet Affleck lands her first plum movie role.

The iPhone Epidemic at Concerts: Have you been to a

rock show recently? I have and the iPhone has ruined the experience. Kiddos, here is a novel idea: you can remember the show in your mind! Please, take one or two photos and put your phone away. What are these millennials going to do with 148 pictures of people watching a concert?

Stop the baby mania: Let’s all agree that being a woman is tough work in 2015, whether you have zero or seven children, so for Christ’s sake, people, stop asking women when and if they’re going to procreate, really can’t we all cease talking about it at all? I cringe every time an infertile couple is posed with the question, “So, when will there be a baby in the extra room?” Um, maybe after we murder you and store your remains in there. Or, “So, are you having any more children?” inquired of the mom I know just suffered a miscarriage.And, not every woman wants to have a baby, can we ever accept this?

If you’re not getting it on with the person with which you’re discussing procreating, stop asking the questions.

My kid’s short, and your kid is annoying: My son, much like

my husband and me, is vertically challenged. I know this because I am not blind, his doctor confirmed my observation, and every other concerned parent wants to inform me of his visible shortness. I am the boy’s mother, doesn’t he already have enough issues? Must everybody remind him how small he is? Please, stop, or just know that while you are commenting on his height, I am trying to figure out how many pounds you should lose.

Mark Wahlberg is a humorless masshole: Yes, are you sitting down? I am a Massachusetts-bred Mark Whalberg hater. I know he’s been in some good movies and that he can act, but I can’t look at his lopsided smile, cowboy gait and insincere looks of sincerity. Every journalist tells horror stories about his rudeness, he tries to bury his Funky Bunch roots (probably his best work-to-date) and he is always talking about what his devout Catholicism. Such a phony, such a bore.

Skinny jeans are the new mom jeans: Are skinny jeans out of style yet? I remember Kate Moss wearing them at least ten years ago, they meandered their way to middle America and we’ve been left looking at women’s muffin-tops ever since. Ugh, I tried, I have a slew of unworn skinny jeans sitting in a drawer just waiting for me to proclaim defeat and give to goodwill. I can’t rock the skinny jean, that is for sure, but I don’t think I want to. Just go to a big event and count the number of skinny jeans worn with a high boot, it’s become the official uniform of soccer moms, city slickers and country folk. Can we move on, and look into something new?

Nothing about Katy Perry interests me. Not her music, nor her religious upbringing, her choice of lovers or her style. There are worse evils out there than Katy, but she bores me to tears. I feel the same way about Selena Gomez, Maroon Five and Ellie Goulding. I’d admit that I can’t keep a straight face when watching a Beyoncé performance, but I’m afraid the Illuminati will attack my family and rob me of my mind.

Predictability kills me. Leonardo DiCaprio and his next 24-year old supermodel illicit a yawn as much as Blake Shelton gushing over Miranda Lambert. Waiting for Kristen Stewart to go to rehab is much more fun, maybe one of the soulless Jenner sisters will beat her to it.

Of course, no list of all things rotten would be complete without the Bill Cosbys, Kardashians and football players behaving badly. But that would be really predictable, wouldn’t it?