I've decided to start trying to diversify my shit, and attempt to write various kinds of things. Today I wrote my first essay, just to kind of see if I could, and if I had anything to write about. It's a memoir, of sorts, about an Elementary School-aged me, and this song:
The essay is after the jump if you care to indulge, and if not, that's cool too. It's totally acceptable if you're here to talk about lipstick and Justin Bieber. Don't worry, I'm still doing that. I probably won't post more of these essays here, but I thought I would go ahead and post this shit because it's the first one and, whatever, I do what I want.
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Tuesday, January 28, 2014
Quick Sh*t: Watch Vin Diesel Lip Synching To Katy Perry And Dancing To Beyoncé All By His Lonesome. In Cargo Shorts. #Surfboard
Post by Vin Diesel.
If that didn't make you feel uncomfortable, then you are probably Superman, and therefore, invincible. Congratulations.
P.S. I see that Vin is still trying to make tank tops and camo cargo shorts happen, like it's 2004 all over again. Yay?
via Vin's Facebook page
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Monday, January 27, 2014
Let Us All Collectively Scream, "NOOOOOO," Because Charlize Theron And Sean Penn Are, Like, Really Together.
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| pic via us weekly |
I've been living in a deep hole (heh) of denial for the past couple of weeks, hoping against hope that the rumblings of these two sitting in a tree were all a big fat lies. But there's no denying that it's true now. Thanks a bunch, US Weekly.
This is terrible news, you guys. If an expired bag of beef jerky, left out in the sun for seven months can find themselves with a stunning alien queen of a human, then what else is possible? I just googled "are monsters real," just to make sure I'm not living in a world that's gone mad. I'm not even the only one wondering. Or maybe it's just opposite day? (month? life?) I can't deal with this world if this is real, real.
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| via realitytvgifs |
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GUUUUUURL Of The Day: Will Smith, For Having a Chico's Kind Of Day At A Grammys After-Party
While skimming this article over at BuzzFeed, I came across this photo of Will Smith at a Grammys after-party:
What. The. Eff. Is. Happening. Here? This looks just like an outfit that your Auntie Paula, who is a middle school receptionist with this haircut, would wear with some kicky clogs to work because, TGIF. Or maybe an ensemble a woman who is going on a first date post-divorce with a nice manager of a local Honda dealership that she met on Plenty of Fish would put together. This is not an outfit that a man wears to A GRAMMY EFFING PARTY.
Stella needs to get her groove back.
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| pic via buzzfeed |
Stella needs to get her groove back.
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Friday, January 24, 2014
Lazy Blogging: Read Something That I Already Wrote
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| pic via allure |
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Get Your Asses In Gear, It's Already That Time -- Allure Beauty Blogger Awards 2014 Has Begun!
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| you too can creepily take pics of andre leon talley! plus, products for dayzzzzz. |
The process to enter is very easy, or you know that my lazy ass wouldn't have even attempted. And if you're all, "I'm not even that great of a blogger. Why bother? Pshhhaw on all of this," I say to you...
Put yourself out there. Give that sh*t a shot. At worst, nothing comes of it. At best, you have THE BEST EFFING EXPERIENCE OF YOUR LIFE. I got to do things that I never could have even dreamed of in 2.3 million years, seriously. Go over to Allure right this second and check out all of the details on the contest this year.
I love you all dearly, and I only want the best for all of your damn lives, so do you and go do this. That's as close to a motivational message that you'll ever get from my old, crotchety ass. Now, get off my lawn!
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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.
#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
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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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
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| cuts on cuts on cuts |
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| where'd your brows go, drew? |
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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