Showing posts with label I Hate Everything. Show all posts
Showing posts with label I Hate Everything. Show all posts

Monday, April 13, 2015

Sharpen Your Pitchforks, Here's My Beauty Confession: I Hate Contouring

This might piss you off, but I've held this in my mind prison long enough: I hate contouring.

Okay, maybe hate is a bit strong. But I'm extremely fed-up with it in encroaching on everyday life. And like most things in life, I blame Kim Kardashian for this entire thing.

Here she is, the Kontouring Kween, perfectly demonstrating one of my major issues with contouring your face -- it looks pretty shitty most of the time, when you're just walking around in your life buying Diet Cokes, or whatever. Because our faces are made of human skin, featuring boring stuff like oils and pores and other organ-y things. And when you aren't on a stage, or in a photoshoot, contouring usually looks one of three ways: like you didn't even do it, like it's screaming, "HEY, I CONTOURED MUH FACE," or like you just have dirt on your face. Pick your poison.

Why am I even talking (typing?) about this right now? Well, I have tried to wait for the contouring madness to die down, and just go about my life, but a ton of people that I love and care about are continually being affected by contouring. You might think I'm being hyperbolic right now, but here's a taste of contouring issues, just from the past month or so.

This first text is from someone that actually had contouring done by the man who is responsible for Kim K's contour. So, the utmost expert in their field.

Okay, so how about someone that tried it on themselves, just for something fun on a special occasion? Here's a text from another friend.


Hmmm, not great. Then I also get a lot of the following, where people are just like, "What the eff is even going on?!?"

Listen, you know me. I'm an NOT an anti-ass-load of makeup propagandist. I am firmly pro-ass-loads of makeup, in fact. There's just a time and place for concealing the actual shape of your facial features, and picking up a couple of delicious Blizzards from DQ is not necessarily it. THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH YOUR JAW/NOSE/CHEEK/FOREHEAD SHAPE, WORLD. But if you find yourself on stage as a Dolly Parton impersonator, contour away. Also, give me your number. I want to know you.

There are ways to look more rested, vibrant and like your face was gently swatted awake with a unicorn's treasure-filled tail beyond contouring, and they don't take a master's degree in blending to achieve. One of the best is Trish McEvoy's "triangle of light" method, which you can read about here. And all you need is a concealer that you probably already own.

If you want to add a little more glowy shit to your face, might I suggest bronzer? Just put it on the places where the sun would naturally hit: forehead, cheeks, a dab on the nose and chin. If you want to get fancy-ish, do the ol' three shape bronzer trick. That's it.

At the end of the day, you know I want you to do whatever the hell it is that makes you happy. But don't feel like you have to contour your face into an alien; you don't. It's not going to make you feel happier or extra famous. Just more makeup-y. Now, I'll get off my effing high horse and get back to posting constant gifs.

Thanks, Brit. We needed that.

You can send your hate emails to

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Thursday, September 12, 2013

Great. I'm the Effing Worst, Part 308430984: Justin Bieber Mustache Edition

You b*tches know there are very few things that I hold closer to my heart than hating on Biebs. (Basically, just koalas, unicorns, bacon, and wine.) SO THAT'S WHY I HATE MYSELF. I really, really, really wanted to make fun of Justin Bieber's non-stache today, as seen here:

via huffpo
We can all hash out that shower curtain liner-embellished, brought to you by the letter "Y" shirt at a later date, because here's another picture of the offensive three hairs:

via jb's instagram
And here:

bieb's i.g. again
I mean what IS that??? I had so, so many Kip jokes to make, you guys.

Like, a lot.

And the worst thing, ever, happened.

yep, still stalking the instagram

I hate everything.

I need to pet baby stray kittens (after vaccinations) and drink (more) wine.

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Monday, April 29, 2013

GUUUUUURL of the Day: The Non-Elegance That Is "Manicured Hands Holding Pearls."

I was watching Snapped last night, which is surprisingly boring for a show about murder, when I realized how much I really, really hate something.

This is a screen shot of the opening of the show, and there's my annoying nemesis -- "Manicured Hands Holding Pearls." I've always been confounded and irritated by the painted nails/multi strands of pearls deal, stemming from my mid-90's, teen talon (long-as-hell, chocolate brown, acrylic nails) days, when posters of this mess was plastered up everywhere and in every damn nail salon.

ugh. like i'm going to pay for this crap.
ohhhh. so glamourous and edgy.
bigger balls.
Listen b's, don't sue me for using these pictures. I'VE GOT TO DEMONSTRATE SH*T. I just don't understand what I'm supposed to feel when I look at this crap. Understated elegance? A reminder that I hate french manicures? Rich b*tches love clutching all of their pearl strands at once?

I give up on looking at things with my eyes.

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Monday, April 22, 2013

Blogging Note: Imma Be a Minute

If you follow my boring ass on Instagram or Twitter, you might know that I'm moving/just moved. And because all things are boring and annoying, I haven't had internet at my old place for the past few days, and now that ish isn't working at my new place. Doy, like that WOULDN'T happen. So I won't be posting until that nonsense gets fixed, or whatever. I'm not a wizard. So I'm leeching up free wifi right now at a coffee place with all of the other nerds, because all of my neighbors have their wifi on lock down. That includes someone that named their wifi "Grenade Free Zone." Ugh, OF COURSE. See you b's on the flip side.

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Friday, February 22, 2013

What Kind of Effery is Anne Hathaway Wearing on Her Dome Area???

Listen. I know that there is a large(ish) group of mofo's that straight hate Anne Hathaway. I am not one of those people, I think that she's just fine -- in general. But this...

pics via daily mail
I can't go for that sh*t. Homegirl looks half a grandma, half a turrible craft project gone awry. And this hat is CLEARLY her straight jam right now, because she's wearing this mess multiple times. Annie Boo Boo, whaddup? It's not protecting your lovely porcelain skin from ish, and crap's making your hair look super wig-like underneath. Believe it or not, no matter my pro-fake hair stance, that is NOT complementary. And don't you b's even start telling me that this glorified Gam Gam's upside down hanging flower pot rip off is haute couture, or whatever. I don't give a damn. It's gross.

Not doing this sh*t with you, Hatha-path. Take it off. (And let me burn it.) It's for the good of humanity.

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Tuesday, December 4, 2012

Thank You, Fun Ruiners of the World, for Ruining Everything I've Ever Loved.

There are very few things that I really, truly adore in life. And over the past few days, TWO of those things have been completely ruined for me.

via buzzfeed
 This b*tch. I have always wanted an eyepatch. Not out of necessity, born through terrible tragedy or anything, but just to wear. Kind of like when you're a kid, and you straighten out a paper clip to pretend like it's a retainer. (Why in weird kid brains did we do that crap?) So like that, but I'm in my thirties, and still pretending weird nonsense.

UNTIL I see Scott Disick, who is Kourtney Kardashian's boyfriend, if you are blissfully unaware (oh, how I envy you), wearing a MOTHER EFFIN' EMBROIDERED EYEPATCH. Can I have nothing in life that is important to me? Now I will NEVER be able to stroll along a wandering boulevard wearing my bedazzled eyepatch and jauntily swinging a cane that has a silver skull/bird's head/something else I haven't even thought of yet. Because every schmoe that passes will be thinking, "Oh, will you look at at pathetic b. She's totally pulling a Disick. What's next? Suede loafers on the beach?" When in the past they would have thought, "Cool eyepatch."

But the fun ruining horrors do not end there. Even KOALAS ARE NOT SACRED IN THIS WORLD.

via reddit
This is a web posting from a man trying to sell his koala bear. Which sounds amazing, because I love koala bears more than 99% of humans. Until you read the "bad" list of things about said koala bear. He raped and murdered a cat?!? He likes Vin Diesel movies?!? He puts shiny things in dog's asses?!? He's a racist?!? Between this and the crazy koala mask, I feel like all of my dreams and aspirations have been crushed. Never will a koala and I frolic on the beach together at sunset, while we spin around together in slow motion, because apparently he will attempt murder on my literal ass.

Does anyone want to ruin anything else for me? Is Ryan Reynold not hot anymore? Is wine not delicious now? I give up.

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Friday, October 5, 2012

Pictures to Peruse While Listening to Jock Jams

Ugh. Remember this disgustingness?

That's a badass b rollin' deep right there.

Oh, No Fear shirts. Never have charm and trash collided in such a way.

Does this even need a caption?

I had this exact crimper. Y'all ready for this?

I had these shoes, too. Flawless. Thanks, Spice Girls.

Get that Guts agrocrag, honey.

Please tell me you guys remember Pumps. Why the eff do we need air to tighten the shoes, again???

Okay, so you should probably listen to grunge for this, but tell me you don't want that earring.

Seriously, why?

Who loves sweaty feet with dirt particles stuck to them?

I once cried because of this show. I was 15.
This is way after Jock Jams, but exactly WHAT THE EFF IS THIS?

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