I was watching the latest episode of 30 Rock last night, when this abomination came upon my screen -- the dreaded man turtleneck. It was actually a small plot point on the episode. You know, the fact that turtlenecks are TERRIBLE. Even the name is gross. Who would want a neck like a turtle? Have you seen a turtle's neck? Don't agree with me? Hold your mother effin' horses sister, and let us take a 'neck tour.
I'm pretty sure that this is a terrible joke.
A typical turtleneck patron. The cat is sickened to his core.
What in the eff is this Devil's neck maiden???
Mmmmkay. What kind of weird ass door is that? How does it even work?
Well of course. My nemesis surfaces again. P.S. This picture is friggin' creepy.
My case of the sads is almost to overpowering to even make fun of this sh*t. (I said ALMOST, b's.) I'm not going to lie, I've watched this about seven times. And I'm confused about many a thing here, mainly, why this video even exists. Do we really need a tutorial on how to mix cheese and canned chili together and microwave it? Or the least effective way to open a bag of chips? Who exactly is this gentleman, and can I get yo' number? AAAAAND who taught him how to stir stuff? AAAAAND can I be part of your small group?
I really don't even have anything to say, except that if the man even needs someone to come to his basement apartment to watch reruns of The Facts of Life, I'll meet you there. At least I know what we'll be eating. And now, I have to go...
This week in my Allure blog, I'm giving shaving tips for all of the ladies and gents in light of it being the end of Movember. Mustaches and all hairs be gone! Click here to see how to Get Mo' From Your Movember Shaving Excursion.
Oh, hot damn. This is my jam. (What song was that? A Black Eyed Peas, or something? Hell if I know.) I have tried many a lip scrub, y'alls. I usually put them all into a big, fat ol' "meh" category. A lot of them tend to be chunky, or scratchy, or do-nothings. But lemme tell you about this little pumpkin, which is a LIP SCRUB on the bottom, and a LIP BALM on the top. That's straight simple genius, yo. All you do is scrub-a-dub for half a minute or so (I found it worked best after a shower), and then balm up the pout. My lips feel brand spankin' new! Like I ripped them off a toddler's face, or something. And my lips are always dry. I took Accutane back in the mid 90's (Shut up, I know I'm old as sh*t), and ever since then, I've had a problem with lip dryness. (On my face -- you gross b's.)
Looks like mama's found a new LFF. (Lip friend forever. Obviously.)
Ho-leeee mother eff, you guys. What in hairless cat face hell happened to Jordan Catalano?
Jared Leto and a friend on their way to lunch.
I know that this sh*t is for a movie, but get this b some brow toupees or something, man. I can't be having that mess all shoved up in my eyeballs. It's freaking me out.
Jared is usually a stone cold ass fox, so this is some harsh crap. I will donate my hair to make this man some emergency brows, if need be. I AM FRIGHTENED. What the eff would Rickie say about this?
Oh. Well, Rickie's too busy being hot to worry about Jordan/Jared's eyebrow game. But you know who's not? My ass.
As soon as I put these on in the shower, I started soft-shoeing, because that is what one does when one puts on white gloves. Especially when one wants to be an old timey gentleman. So after my routine, I decided to actually use them for their intended purpose, and to stop being a friggin' weirdo for two minutes. And lemme tell you, these little gloves can exfoliate with the best of them. You get loofah-esque levels of exfoliation, but with much easier use. I also like that there are actually TWO gloves, because a lot of times you get one, and then you are caught switching hands four million times per shower. And that crap is not cute when you're a lazy mofo.
There's also a tag on the glove that tells you when to replace it. When the ink fades from the tag, you throw dem b's out! How easy is that? So I give these lil' mamas two enthusiastic and exfoliated thumbs up! Now, I have to go take my pants off and pretend I'm Donald Duck. Don't call the police.
I'm sure that you guys recognize this super overly used meme. It's a dude the internets have dubbed "Scumbag Steve." To most, he's just a douchey-looking douche that helps spread more douche, but The Boston Globe actually found this guy, and interviewed him. Please watch the following video, and have the terrible realization that memes are total life truth bombs.
Life imitating art? I can't even with this guy. I'm just going to put this out there -- if you wear a shirt with your own face emblazoned on it, then you are the worst. And if any of you even attempt to listen to this guy's raps, even ironically, I swear on everything I love (so pretty much baby koalas), that I will disconnect your internet. Even dial up. Even free AOL trial disks. I will smash the sh*t out of them.
P.S. My apologies on the auto-play deal on the video. I don't know how to change that crap, I'm not freaking Doogie Howser. I owe you a delicious soft serve ice cream cone.
As I told you yesterday, I am doing a little mini review (???), or maybe just my random thoughts on last night's cinematic blah-sterpiece that is Lifetime's Liz & Dick. Here are some moments I felt necessary to photograph while I watched.
I need this snake thing.
It's Creed from The Office!
This whole scene was so fake and weird. It looked like it was filmed in front of an Olan Mills studio backdrop.
I'm sorry, but I love everything about this image.
Miranda's STEVE from Sex and the City! (He only had one ball.)
Totally my favorite moment from the movie. "Man Marries Duck! Court Cries Foul!" I can't even handle it.
Homeboy's hair was TURRIBLE the entire movie.
Lindsay looked the most like Elizabeth Taylor when she was in the "White Diamonds" phase. By a total landslide.
My thoughts of the movie as a whole -- the pace was completely weird. It was like a period of a few years was drawn the eff out over 1:45, and then twenty years were shoved into an awkward fifteen minutes. It was like, "Oh, hey. We're getting back together. We're married again; oh wait -- just got divorced. We're older -- Burton died." That is sadly not even an exaggeration.
A couple of other notable things included that the beauty mark drawn on Lilo's face kept jumping sides. It would be on the left side of her face, then in the next scene on the right. CAN YOU NOT KEEP TRACK OF THAT ISH? Keep a journal, or something. Then, there was an entire scene about Elizabeth Taylor having "pudgy hands." Like a ten minute scene spent on the topic. I sh*t you not.
Overall, I was pretty bored. It wasn't terrible, but I definitely would not watch that mess again. And I think that Elizabeth Taylor would be PISSED about the movie. Did you guys watch it? What did you think?
We are mere MINUTES away from the cinematic moment of the year, no, millennium. Liz & Dick premieres on Lifetime tonight, and I cannot wait for this ish storm. Don't worry, I will be watching and documenting all the good good for a post tomorrow. But first, we MUST discuss this. Did I get reverse-Rip-van-Winkled and it's really the year 2000? Because that is truly the only reasonable explanation for this dress right now. Or that this b stole my circa 2004 lamp shade from my trash and removed the fuzzy boa sh*t, repurposing it into a dress. That is highly possible with ol' Sticky Fingers McTakesalot here.
Let's end on something nice, shall we? I'm glad that Linds is back to being a ginge. That is how I enjoy my crazies most of all. Now it's time for DICK! (And Liz.)
I know that I need to get of of Justin Bieber's jock. (GROSS.) But when ish like this is popping up on my instagram, I CANNOT IGNORE IT. What in mother eff is all of this? That far right picture just makes me feel illegal. Please stop showing me your toddler underoos, Biebs. And working out in overalls isn't overalls is just ridiculous. And stop photographing yourself by the heavy weights. We all know you just power walk and use your mom's strap-on ankle weights. You aren't fooling my ass.
But my biggest issue is the I-undid-one-overall-strap thing that is happening. ARE WE REALLY HERE AGAIN? Because you know who wore this look better?
DONNIE EFFING WAHLBERG, B*TCH. You can't even rock the 'alls as hard as Jordan.
Okay, maybe Jordan. Homeboy has a rat tail halfway to his ass.
P.S. Can we all just drink in this photo for a moment?
My life will never be as wonderful as it is at this moment. NKOTB 4 EVA.
So, I got brave(ish) on T-gives and dyed my own hair. See the reveal after the jump and how I effed up...And ended up in Walmart at the start of Black Friday with all of the crazies.
Before I received this Layla polish, I had never heard of the brand. It's apparently an Italian nail polish company, and they were one of the first peeps to do the whole magnetic polish deal. The color I tried is best described as a ruby red with flakes of red glitter. But the glitter isn't like your gamgam's glitter from Michael's. This polish looks like lava is painted on your nails.
My photography skills are straight sh*t.
I COULD NOT get a good representation of these nails in any light.
See? Terrible.
But I promise they are badass. And the polish dries really fast, which my lazy ass truly appreciates. The company says you don't need a base or top coat, but I did both anyway. What can I say? I can't be tamed. I break all the rules. Anyway, check out all of the colors over at Zappos and see what you think. Now I'm going to put on my Katniss Everdeen "girl on fire" dress to match my nails.
Update:This is an easily chipping polish, which is pretty standard for glittery ass polishes, but I just had to keep it real with my b's. I wrote this post last night, and am now on my work lunch break, and I've got some chipping happening. But like some Level 2 type ish. Nothing insane.
Unfortunately, TMZ leaked this horrible collaboration of Paris Hilton and Lil' Wayne today, and it is really confusing my ass. Why are we still playing this charade with Paris Hilton? 'Tis not 2004 anymore, (not that) young lady. No one was into "Stars are Blind," and we don't want anymore of your baby voice. Especially when the song is so endearingly entitled, "I WANT TO BANG YOU." Not on my watch, b. This is not happening. I would much rather watch this on repeat. (Oh wait, I already do.)
And while we're at it, WHERE THE EFF IS TINKERBELL???
This isn't the first time I have realized that I am awkwardly in love with Jennifer Lawrence. This time, she tells Jay Leno how she got into a car accident because she thought she saw Honey Boo Boo.
P.S. Can I tell you b's something? I'm afraid I will HATE Honey Boo Boo next season. It's a big phobia for me right now. Like you know when something is awesome, and then the thing realizes it's awesome, and then it's kind of absolutely terrible? I think that's happening.
P.P.S. You know what's always kind of terrible? Jay Leno.
Don't worry -- I love to be six months late on web trends.
Sephora sent over the YSL Holiday Set for me to try, which includes the Touche Eclat, which I have not been shy about obsessing over. The set includes:
An ultra glam holiday set featuring Touche Éclat N°2, Golden Gloss N°10, a mini Mascara Volume Effet Faux Cils in black, and a mini waterproof eye liner in black—all presented in a beautiful makeup bag.
The makeup bag is the perfect size for a crazy/hoarder-ish/I-have-a-major-lip-gloss-problem person like myself to keep in my purse. For some, it might be a great makeup-I-use-everyday bag. The eyeliner is GORGEOUS. It's deep, inky black and goes on insanely smooth. Like Al Green music smooth. The lip gloss is crazy shiny and glittery.
It kind of tastes fruity, and isn't sticky. It makes my lips feel like a sexy Studio 54 party, but even glossier and with extra glitter. And when it comes to my new boyfriend, Touche Eclat, I have to say that it totally lives up to my expectations. Because I am an oily beast, I use it over a primer, but it totally brightens up my under eye area like the bossiest of bosses. It alone retails for $40, so I feel like the set it a great value. The last piece of the kit is a mini mascara. It's very volumizing and lengthening, and the best part? IT SMELLS LIKE ROSES.
LIKE ROSES, people. You don't get more luxury than that. Check out the set for your own damn self, here.
I know I just talked about another LUSH product, but I'm in love with a non-stripper. (Of your hair, sick brains!) I was dying to try Blousey, the new LUSH 'poo for LLDH (Ladies who love dying their hair, duh.), and they graciously sent me a sample. The texture is very different from any shampoo I've used before -- it's kind of lumpy and thick. Which, to me, makes it all the more fun. It just FEELS like your mama and them made it in their home laboratory, or something. And it smells kind of like a chocolatey banana. I have to stop myself from grabbing a spork and taking a taste. Because I exclusively use golden-plated sporks to eat things. It gets pretty sudsy for a bananarama-packed product, and it still really gets my ol' greasy mop clean. I am really loving on this stuff hardcore. My hair feels soft, clean, and smells like the Bluth Banana Stand.
So, in other words, I give it a dancing David Silver. 'Tis the highest honor of them all.
I was perusing this story on The Daily Mail about blah blah blah Biebs and Selena Gomez reuniting blah blah blah. I didn't even have one eff to give about all of that mess, until this photo turned my heart to ice:
What the muther eff? Did baby Bieber not have supervision when he was getting dressed, and accidentally wore his mom's upside down sweatshirt as a pair of pants? What the disgusting are those things? They are exactly one million times worst than the last ones! Even Selena, in the background, is all, "Did that weird cult-y lady leave yet?" Let's have a look at the back (if you're brave enough), shall we?
I can't even belieb (groan) that this is really happening. If things such as these are truly being manufactured, forget the death of Twinkies, THIS is the true sign of the apocalypse.
I'm going into my "safe chamber" until this is all over.
P.S. My safe chamber is my couch, wearing nearing-decade-old Juicy pants and dirty hair. Don't tell anyone.
