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Showing posts with label Bleh. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bleh. Show all posts

Friday, February 21, 2014

TGIF! Who Wants To Sing Sensually With Someone Named 'Keyboard Cathy' About Sashimi?



Oh, man. You know it's going to be great music video experience when that little artist/title thingy doesn't leave the corner of the screen for well over a minute. You really know that things are headed to Perfection-ville, population Cathy, when she removes her sunglasses apparatus from her sensible Lens Crafters creations. Those were NOT from the $99 wall, I can almost guarantee.


But then things start taking an odd turn for me. When KC goes on about "tasting adventure," sh*t got weird. Keyboard Cathy clearly very feels VERY sensual feelings about sashimi, you guys. Wait. Is this really just a bowl-cutted video full of sexual innuendo? By the eyebrows at the 2:41 mark, I don't really think that it could be anything else. OH MY GOD, AT 3:35 IT'S ALL JUST TOO MUCH. Is Key Key possibly talking about try her OTHER bowl cut? And is it...is it...pierced?


Well, I probably just ruined your weekend, your life, and any chance in hell of you going to a sushi restaurant again, so also the sushi industry as a whole. My work here is done.


via reddit


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Wednesday, February 5, 2014

Beauty Tricks To Make Yourself Look Like You Give A Sh*t, Even When You Don't

Life is not always mf-ing glitter-covered fairies and glow stick rainbows, you guys. I'm going through one of those mental valleys in life right now, and it's hard for me to find one eff to give about much. But that doesn't mean I'm ready to throw down the gauntlet, and buy some oversized sweatpants with "I've given up," emblazoned on the ass. When I do make a rare venture out into public, I force myself to at least give the illusion that I'm a productive member of society. Here are my tricks.

Get The Windows To Your Soul Looking Human(ish).


If the eyes really tell all, then (woo-hah!) you better get that all in check. The easiest and most effective way to do this is with a little eyebrow definition/eye highlighting combo. As you can see from the terrifying picture above, the combination of these two things give an instant lifted look to a sad sack eye. Plus, it takes, like, two seconds.

Simply take a concealer that's just a wee bit lighter than your skin, and apply it directly under your eyebrow and under-eye area, patting it in. Finish off by filling in your brows with a neutral eyebrow pencil. Voila! Now no one will ever know what an actual monster I am. Muahahaha!


P.S. Before your ass is all, "The eye picture on the right is just positioned lower than the one on the left, you conniving a-hole," it's one picture. I just put a little line down the center for the extra dramz. Science! 

Ditch The Garbage Pail Kid Hair.


The days that I actually and legitimately wash my entire head of hair are getting few and far between, so I have some tricks in my lazy arsenal to prevent myself from looking squarely in the "that girl might have ACTUAL vaseline in her hair" category. (The threat is very, very real.)

If you're still trying to make wearing your dirty ass hair down happen, the best thing to do is to just wash the front bang area of your mop, then style that section as you normally would. You can treat the rest of your hair with dry shampoo, like this new Herbal Essences Naked (Target, $4.99). It's insanely fragrant, so you won't smell like week-old french fries.

Or maybe your hair is way too far gone down that dirty ol' road to wear it down. I feel you, man. If this is the case, treat your mane generously with dry shampoo and wear it all up in a top knot. Oh, and maybe try washing it tomorrow, if you're up to it, Josie Grossie.


 Keep Lower Maintenance Expectations.

When I'm having an extended period of over-it-itis, I like to keep my expectations and my maintenance lowered.


These are the times that I like to depend on easy beauty products that really just get sh*t done, like the Clinique Chubby Stick Moisturizing Lip Colour Balm in Mega Melon ($17). It's a gorgeous pinky coral color, easy to apply, and has just the right amount of shine.


For eyes, it's all about my samples of Make Up For Ever Aqua Shadows (Sephora, $20) the company sent me forever ago. You literally can't eff up with these things. Rub it around your general eye area and it looks great. And like you tried. And not like you were crying over a Lifetime movie starring Tori Spelling while eating stale Cheetos all day.

When All Else Fails, Red Lipstick.

mac viva glam, $16
At worst, you'll look like an eccentric and mysterious weirdo, with phenomenal taste in lipstick and a penchant for hole-filled "Class of '99" t-shirts and leggings. Just put on huge sunglasses and let the gen pop think you're an Olsen twin.




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Thursday, January 23, 2014

Sh*t That Was Unequivocally The Worst About The 90s

Oh, the 90s, you really were the devil's playground, filled with so many treasures like chokers and Paula Poundstone suits, and then also bringing the pain with some truly awful trash. I feel like this era of life has just recently exited the "too soon" category, and I'm now free to trash talk at will. With that in mind, I present to you the WORST crap that the 90s ever served up.

#1 -- Running Out of Free AOL Hours

I don't know what kind of bullsh*t this picture is talking about, but in my day (yes, I'm one of those people now), AOL's stingy ass only shelled out ten free hours a month. Then you then spent twice as many hours dialing up to get online, followed by yelling at your mom when she picked up the phone to call her friend Mary and ruining your teen chat room game. And just when you were REALLY getting into talking to that boy from Tacoma, Washington about his favorite show on TGIF, the AOL hours rug got pulled out right from under your a-hole and your dumb ten hours were up. Your days were then filled with checking the mail on a pretty constant basis, praying to Andrew Keegan that more hours were on their way. (P.S. This is a 100% factual account of my life.)


Level of Terrible-ness: Not being able to get your Capri-Sun straw in the hole on the first time and bending the pointy part on the end, rendering it useless.

#2 -- 3D Magic Eye Posters
These friggin' things, man. They were everywhere you looked, from your Language Arts teacher's desk next to the "Hang in There" kitten poster, to your grandparents' living room wall. My grandparents had one of the Statue of Liberty. They weren't recent immigrants, thankful to be under the watchful eye of Lady Liberty, or anything, they were just from Alabama.

The worst thing about the Magic Eye posters were you had to half-cross your eyes to even catch a glimpse of whatever bullsh*t thing that was supposed to pop out, pretty much guaranteeing strained eyes and an instant headache. Plus, there was always that nagging little voice in your head saying, "You know that your eyes might get stuck that way." If I acquired permanent eyeball damage from looking at an effing 3D poster when I was 11, I would rage against this world.


Level of Terrible-ness: Finishing a Mad Libs book without ever writing "penis."

#3 -- Crystal Pepsi

Just kidding! That sh*t was the truth.


Level of Terrible-ness: The Spice Girls movie.

#4 -- Eyebrow Shenanigans
cuts on cuts on cuts
where'd your brows go, drew?
This decade was straight AWFUL on eyebrows. We were coming off of a decade where we laid our eyes upon beautiful brows like the ones that graced Brooke Shield's mug, and plunged right into the depths of fiery eyebrow hell. Trust, hell would be filled with sh*tty eyebrows. The 90s were chock full o' nuts doing dumb crap to their brows, from partially shaving them to tweezing them into shapes much, much smaller than a wee newborn's eyebrow. Nope.


Level of Terrible-ness: Umbro butt.

#5 -- The Macarena

Do I even need to say anything about this travesty of both music and loosely-termed "dance?" Between The Macarena and anything that came out of Lou Bega's mouth, this time period in pop music was really a rude ass assault on everyone's ear holes. Seeing the general public from toddlers to walker-bound elderly doing this damn dance for years on years is something that can't be unseen. I'm still not over it.


 Level of Terrible-ness: My mom singing along to Boyz II Men's hit song "I'll Make Love to You," which was one of the three cassette tapes that she owned, and forcing those awkward ass lyrics upon my pre-teen ears on every damn car trip to the grocery store.

#6 -- Pre-Flat Iron Hair Styling

Hair in the 90s was really pretty bad. Having BANGS before the new millennium was damn near impossible. My bangs would just curl up after three and a half minutes, and you could just call that sh*t a day. The other option was to curl your horrid bangs with a big curling iron, then spray the hell out of them with White Rain hairspray, leaving you with what appeared to be a Little Debbie Swiss Roll glued to your forehead. HOW DID WE LIVE BACK THEN?


 Level of Terrible-ness: I mean, look at my ass. It's all a big ol' piece of sh*t, so take your pick.

Thank you, decade of the 90s, for giving me the fortitude to make it through the tough times. I'll never forget you, mostly because you scarred me for life.






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Tuesday, January 7, 2014

National Weather Got You Feeling The SADS? It's Time For A DANCE Break. (Jazz Hands!)

In most of the US today it's cold as a mf-ing polar bear's ween. So what will warm us up? DANCE!



Put on your best rainbow sour belt-inspired leotard, buy all the fringe that Michael's has to offer, and DANCE like it's 1982 and your leotard is too short in the stride and inhibits your posture!


But you know what? Dancing's not for everyone. Just stay well within your comfort zone.


Thanks, Snuggie, for introducing a new generation to the world of raising the roof. Now we can all look like a-holes for eternity.


video via reddit


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Sunday, February 10, 2013

Ethan Hawke, You're Code Platinum Freaking Me the Eff Out.

via buzzfeed
You guys. No, a scary clown, Iggy Pop, and current Billy Idol didn't have a threesome (or maybe they did) and produce this person. THIS IS ETHAN-REMEMBER-HOW-HOT-I-WAS-IN-REALITY-BITES-HAWKE. Now before you get all up on my jock, I know he's in some play or some sh*t and that's what this look is all about. But b*tch isn't on stage when this shit was taken. Put on an effin' hat, witch hazel off that eyeliner, and get some deeeeeeep moisturizer on your mug before subjecting all of our retinas to this mess.


More of this, less of whatever the gross is happening up there. I'm done. I'm eyes are making my mind grapes hurt.


And some wine. Lots of wine.



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Monday, August 6, 2012

I Hate Everything: To Infinity and Beyond!

Hey guys. I'm just sitting here (no doy) typing away, and I have to get 50 layers of sexy wrapped up in a 40 year old woman's body shoved in my face. Thanks, Brooke Burke.

pic via brooke's twitter
pic via brooke's twitter
Seriously, that's a hot b. I can only take solace in the fact that she wearing a scrunchie in a non-ironic way. But it's probably so her hair won't get damaged. Damn. I have roughly nine years to get my body looking this guuuurd. I bet BB didn't eat rice and chocolate for dinner. AFKLSFHJLFH.

P.S. She also has four kids (or something, I'm not googling that mess). I might as well hang it up.



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