An Open Letter To Jennifer Love Hewitt: I'm So Sorry, But We Can't Have Blonde Hair.

Hey, J. Love, (Are we still doing that? No?)

I came across the segment of you on Ellen yesterday. I noticed something from jump street that made me feel a little uneasy, but I ignored it. I tried, instead, to focus on how much you've calmed your (literal) tits and how at-ease you now seem in comparison to your former, way over-sharing ways. I like this new you. You seem quite genuine and lovely, so I pushed my bitchy ass thoughts aside.

Then my friend (Hey, V) tagged me in a post about you, with a picture similar to the one above, on Facebook, and I voiced my displeasure about your current hair color haps. Then I tried to move on with my life. I really did. I went to get a coffee. I gave my dog her dog pills. I tried to think of other things to ponder, like how many times we will get to see Eric Northman's ass on this season of True Blood. Or why I can't stop watching Silence of the Lambs, like, nonstop.

BUT I COULDN'T GET THIS SHIT OUT OF MY MF-ING HEAD. Listen, I'm the last person that should judge a person's hair decisions. I make terrible life decisions, especially when it comes to my hair color. I'm that person that dyes their hair with blue-black boxed dye for several years, decides they want to be blonde, gets their hair done every two weeks until it's platinum blonde, then promptly dyes over it with black boxed dye again. I'm the actual worst hair-related-decision-making human.

That's why I feel like I can tell you this. I'm right here with you, sister. We can't be blonde. At least not this blonde. And, unlike you, I was born a blonde. (I watched every damn episode of Kids Incorporated, honey. From Fergie to you. Don't try me.) So it really hurts my nearly-unfeeling heart.

I blocked my friend's face so he won't have to be embarrassed by my hair choices.

LOOK AT US, JLH. WE LOOK LIKE A GD MATCHING SET OF MANILLA ENVELOPES, MAN. I'm not saying this to be a huge c-face (this time). I just wish someone had told me sooner.

I just got my hair done the other day, and when I told my stylist that I wanted to add a little more blonde, he said, "Okay, but you can't have too much near your face. Your skin tone has yellow undertones and your eyes are dark. It won't look right." That's the first time that a professional has told me that. Ever. In all of my precarious hair coloring history. Which is nearing 20 years. And he was right as a mofo.

I'm so sorry that I have to be the one to tell you. I know that it's shitty, but we can't all be blonde. It's like me, you and Jodi Arias. Them's the breaks, kid. Someone had to tell you.

At least you have a great rack, seem extremely sweet, and look absolutely beautiful with your various other hair colors. It gets better.

You have my deepest regrets,

Shan



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GUUUUUURL Of The Day (And Also) Tits Out For The Boys Tuesday: Nick Cannon's Dumb Effing Hair (Topless)

Nick Cannon is really annoying me, you guys. He's one of those people that I have never really gotten on board with comedy-wise, acting-wise, music-wise, or anything else-wise, so I just kind of overlook him. Like the cheese daily serving section of the food pyramid. (GD-it, I love cheese.)

BUT THIS BULLSHIT CANNOT BE IGNORED, AND I'M IRRITATED. What kind of nonsense is Nick Cannon trying to pull on his head area here? I am not exaggerating when I say that my raver friend did this to his hair in the late 90s. Dude is 15 years late and a box of chocolate brown hair dye short. Please do yourself a disservice and look at this pic from US Weekly of him showing off his dumb hair. This is ridiculous.

At least he had the common decency to take his damn top off in the second Instagram pic. Not all is lost I guess, because I get to be extra super lazy and combine two posts into one.

Congratulations, Mr. Cannon-Carey. You're the Tits Out For The Boys Tuesday recipient, so there's...that. I need to go eat cheese.




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Take Your Lashes From Sad Sack To BADASS

Eyelashes, man. They can be a total make-or-beak deal in your beauty game. If I ever happen to catch a picture of myself sans mascara, I almost scare myself to death, like something straight out of Scary Eye-less Stories to Tell in the Dark, or some shit. It's not good.

But because I suffer from this disappearing eye condition, I have fine-tuned the steps to get the absolute MOST out of my lashes. Follow along with me on this journey from "OHHOLYSHITITHINKTHATLADYMURDEREDSOMEONE" to "There's a human!"

STEP ONE: Put some eyeliner in those skin spaces in your lash line.

Look at my before picture and honestly tell me you aren't scared that I might push your ass into a well and force you to rub lotion on your skin suit. You can't tell me that. Don't worry, we'll get almost all of my Buffalo Bill out.

I learned this eyeliner tip directly from Trish McEvoy, who is the natural-looking makeup queen. It makes your lashes look instantly thicker, no bones about it. You can also do this with a pencil liner, and just dab it in-between your lashes. Try this. It will CHANGE YOUR EYELASH LIFE. I'm only being slightly dramatic about that.

STEP TWO: Put some loose powder on your lashes.

This might sound a little weird, but brushing on a little powder to your lashes acts like a primer and forces mascara to get all up on your fringe. Even on those baby bitches. No eyelash will be safe.

STEP THREE: Curl the hell out of your lashes.

If you aren't on the eyelash curler party bus yet, I seriously need a 600 word essay on why the eff not. It opens up your eyes like nothing else can, and makes you look at least 200% more awake.

There are a few different schools of thought on HOW you should actually curl your lashes. I'm a put-the-curler-at-the-base-of-lashes-and-squeeze-for-10-seconds kind of person, but others like to squeeze at the base then repeat mid-shaft. (HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO NOT MAKE PRIVATE PARTS JOKES RIGHT NOW? TELL ME HOW TO LIVE.) Whatever your method is, curl those puppies like they're poodles.

P.S. Always curl your lashes pre-mascara, or you will rip those damn things out of your face. Not cute.

STEP FOUR: Grab two different mascara formulas and layer them.

Grab your first mascara selection and apply one coat, starting at the base of your lashes and vigorously wiggling it through your eyelashes. Now wait 60 seconds. Use your second mascara to apply another layer, pulling your lashes in both directions as you go. If you got all clumped up, brush through with one of those weird tiny eyelash combs or a clean mascara wand.

Listen, I'm not Mr. Wizard. I don't know why using two different mascaras works better than two coats of the same formula, but it just does. Try it, and let me know if you think I'm a crazy cat lady in the brain.

That's the end? Yep, we're done, you sexy ass minxes! Now let's all go awkwardly wink our long n' luscious lashes at mofos until we get arrested for being weird creeps.

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Aubrey Plaza Makes Us All Want Ring Pops To Add Life Drama

Ring Pop! - watch more funny videos

This video really has everything that I need in life: Aubrey Plaza's unconventionally dark weirdness, rock candy masquerading as crack rock, love triangles, and fanny packs. It's Ring Pop-levels of perfect.

I want THEM ALL.

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Zac Efron Got Into Fisticuffs With Some Homeless Dudes, Let's Infer What The Hell He Was Doing.

nice shark tooth, bud.

Whaddup with, Zac Efron? Stuff's been kind of shady ass with Zac lately, from that weird broken jaw story to now this new shit from TMZ, where Effie got into a legit street fight with three men sans houses. Here's the maybe story:

We're told cops were on patrol under the Harbor Freeway when they saw Zac and a man he identified as his bodyguard.  Cops saw Zac and the other guy in a full-blown melee with at least 3 other people. 

After breaking up the fight, cops questioned Zac. He told them they had run out of gas and were sitting in the car.  Zac said while waiting for a tow truck they threw a bottle out the window -- he never said what was in the bottle -- and it smashed on the pavement near a group of transients.

Zac said the transients confronted him and the bodyguard because they believed the pair hurled the bottle at them. Zac says 2 of the transients attacked the bodyguard and when Zac got out of the car to help, he got cold cocked in the mouth. Zac said, "It was the hardest I've ever been hit in my life."

Erm, okay. That story sounds like some complete and utter bullshit. So instead of scooping that faux knowledge into our innocent brains, let's make up what might have been going on in this enigma-filled situation. (Beyond the obvious late night hoodrat activities that are pretty likely.)

He was practicing for his newly-formed street gang.

Level of Probability: 10. Please, if you don't want to be in a dancing street gang, then you can get the hell out of here.

He wanted to finish watching Frozen in the car before he got home, and the homeless dudes hate "Let it Go."

 
Level of Probability: 8. "Let it Go" is super annoying.

He was trying to make a Mentos/Diet Coke bottle rocket for his science project, and it totally sucked.

Level of Probability: 6. That hypothesis was way off.

His sea monkey colony quit that bitch and jumped out the window.

Level of Probability: Unknown. I wasn't allow to have sea monkeys, so I really can't judge their lifestyle choices.

He wanted the guys to read him Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark for a bedtime story, but those dudes were more Goosebumps fans.

Level of Probability: 7. It's a personal preference. I totally get it.

He thought the transient men were vampires, so he was donating his blood.

Level of Probability: 4. Generosity killed the cat, or something.

They were all playing a rousing game of Hungry Hungry Hippos together and shit got heated.

Level of Probability: 8. One dude was totally hogging the pink one. You know it.

Okay, I'm all out of ideas. My brain is in shambles. What do you guys think happened?

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FYI: My All-Time Favorite Acne Treatment Is Now Available At Sephora

now available at sephora for $39.50!

I'm super excited for the faces of the world today. Well, the acne-prone ones (like my ass), anyway. MY RIDE-OR-DIE, MOST FAVORITE, UNICORN RAINBOW BABY ACNE TREATMENT IS NOW AVAILABLE AT SEPHORA. I'm talking about my homie CLEAROGEN, which I have told your brains about before, and how damn much I love it. I won't be boring and reiterate every friggin' thing I already told you, but I wanted to share this awesome news.

CLEAROGEN actually sent me one of these new kits (they're a little smaller and cheaper than the doctor-sold OG version), and the prods are exactly the same. Just different packaging.  

And I'm not just blowing smoke up your no no's about this stuff. My skin has been an absolute terror, like stuff that dermatologist's nightmares are made from, since I've moved to Arizona. I finally got my proverbial shit together and re-introduced CLEAROGEN back into by life, and my skin has gotten much, much better. I'll do a longer post on everything I've been doing later.

If you're one of my fellow acne-ridden sisters or bro bros, go check this more affordable ($39.50) option at Sephora. Yesssssss. Let's all slather it on together and say, "Bye, bitch," to our acne.

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Tits Out For The Boys Tuesday: Bieber Edition

The word on the street (yes, I just watched Real Housewives of New York) is that Biebs might be the future bod (gross) of Calvin Klein underwear, or maybe he just wants to be. For one of those possible reasons unknown to good damn common sense, he posted these pictures of himself topless as a newborn baby today on his Instagram account.

via jb's instagram

Listen, JB. I know you just got out of Grade 7 (he's Canadian) science lab, or whatever, but this is what a Calvin Klein underwear model looks like.

Now that your eyeballs have soaked all of this up, you can take 5-7 seats, Baby Bieb Bieb. But all is not lost. You have landed the 2,398,403,280 place runner's up gig: TITS OUT FOR THE BOYS TUESDAY!

Now go cover up.


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