Thursday, April 28, 2011

Hyperbole and a Half

© Allie Brosh

Hyperbole and a Half, my new obsession. I've been cackling off and on all day, whenever I could escape and read more. I'm surely late to the party, but now that I'm here I am shouting it to the rooftops: Read this blog! It is scary, scary, scary how much I have in common with this woman (See: "This Is Why I'll Never Be an Adult" and "Sneaky Hate Spiral").

Now linked forever on the right!

Sunday, April 24, 2011

Royal Wedding

Oh, did you think I was talking about the one happening in a week or whatever? Nah.

My neighbor and I had a moment in the elevator, laughing at the ridiculous hysteria over the royal wedding that is about to commence. I said, "When I was seven, I totally rolled out of bed to see princess Di get married." To which she said, "You were SEVEN."


When Diana died, there were a legion of girls, now women, who cried, if not outwardly, then within. It was a horrible moment. Of course, we did not know her. We would never know if we would have actually liked her. But that wasn't the point. What we did know was that we admired her, idolized her, not only because she was a princess, but because she was so close to least as much as we could imagine. She loved Duran Duran and she loved Scottie Dog sweaters. Like us. And later when she broke away from that royal weirdo...we were on her side. Don't deny! Even when she bent her head and unleashed her venom in that strange and shameful tirade, you knew you had to side with her. NOT because she was a mother. Not because she was blond. HAHA. But because she was nineteen and foolish and swept up in a royal vortex.

In another world she might've been beheaded and remembered only for this. Instead, she was crushed in a Paris tunnel. So beneath her. So beneath anyone. And that is why we cried. Such a common death.

I am glad I remember rolling out of bed at 4 am to watch her wrinkled, billowing dress pile out of that carriage. And her sweet, young visage breaking out of those billows without haste. It is wonderful to know that she's part of this newest hysteria. It grounds the whole thing in reality and makes it all the more relevant and sublime. But forget this moment now. I'd rather remember Princess Di, dodging the press and braving the mass of media that awaited her, before the tunnel, before the end.

Saturday, April 23, 2011

Jake Ryan is an ASSHOLE

So shocking that I would ever write such a thing. If you only knew the Odyssey I went on to get the VHS tape of Sixteen don't. Even. Know. Eighty fucking dollars and too. Much. Time.

Notwithstanding, I still love this movie. I forgive the racism...Long Duc Dong and Ooohhh Sexy Girrl Friend...and any other shortsightedness (no one ever mentions the greasy, let's guess "Italian" the good daughter marries). I don't care! It's a funny movie full of stupidity and things that are 80s adorablush. A black guy??? No, a pink guy! So funny! Ugh. But I forgive!

And I still forgive the central premise...that we all want Jake, the Frat-y, sexy, Porche driving mutha fucka with a giant, flaming cake and a hard on for nerdgirls. It is real! Real! Luckily I see him now for what he really is: A Thing. A Sexy Thing with no ass and pouty lips. YAY! Yay for Jake and yay for me.

But let's get real now. If we analyse the movie, we know he's nothing more than a hairy choad with mommy's bank account. Shiny, but shameful. Let's count it down:

Jake intercepts Sam's "who would you do" quiz then asks his musclehead friend what he thinks of her to an unsurprising result: She's a child. Jake says "She's not UGLY." Best. Compliment. Ever.

Jake dates Caroline, the most vapid idjit ever...yet she has the best lines in the movie (now we're both on birth control!). He dates her, obviously, for her tits.

When he tries to call Sam, he gets her Grandparents. What does he say to them, even accidentally? "Eat me."

The Best, Tops Thing that proves he's an ass? He befriends Farmer giving him Caroline in his father's car. "She's wasted. Have fun." Nice.

Need we say more? Yes, he shows up to Sam's house, runs into Long Duc Dong (you grabbed my nuts), and retrieves her from her sister's ludes-saturated wedding, only to kiss her over a flaming birthday cake, thus showing that he cares that Sam turned sixteen and is, after all, his nerd of choice.

If you watch 16 Candles, you have to ignore a LOT, and I am not referring to the racism, classicism, or any other known isms you might ascribe to. You have to ignore, above all else, the Truth of Jake. He's a Choad. A hairy, poopy Choad. Sorry, girls.

I still love the movie, though. Urges and needs cannot be denied. The Donger. Need. FOOD!

Saturday, April 09, 2011

Squeeee Times One Meeellion

In honor of Easter, when baby animals are celebrated Christianity-worldwide, let's celebrate the giant dorks of the world: Animal Babies.

Aye Aye's are amazing and endangered. I've posted this dork on Facebook, but this little dude warrants repeating. Note that all of the baby traits are on display: trembling weirdness, yawning, scratching.

Emerson is a baby human. I love him because he is freaking out.

Teeny Kit. You cannot resist the teeny kit.

Puppies are chunkular and doofy. This is breeding by cruel overlords, Humans, but I'm down. What I love about this little poop is the yappy excitability.

Baby Bats are beyond darling. What makes it better? Swaddling.

Otters are like hairy, fat snakes...who knew such a concept would be so freaking squeeeeeeular??? Hearts extreme.

Oh, did you know? Otters are the squeaky toys of the Animal Kingdom?

Lambs are beyond cute. BEYOND.

see more Lolcats and funny pictures, and check out our Socially Awkward Penguin lolz!

And finally....

Missing Scene from Return of the Jedi in My Dreams

Tuesday, April 05, 2011

For Girl


job fails - I SEE YOU... Goofing Off Bob
see more Monday Through Friday