The Halloween Tutorial You've Always Wanted In Your Life: Honey Boo Boo

I'm such an old. I can't even do peace fingers the "cool" way.

Are you guys all hyped for Halloween? That shit is my favorite time of year. You can look completely ridiculous and not get one single judgey look. So I felt it necessary to do a solid Halloween tutorial.

And because I'm always on time, like Ja Rule and Ashanti, I picked Honey Boo Boo. Yes, I have a calendar.





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Hide Your Lady Flowers, Robin Thicke Is Back On The Prowl

I hate everything about this picture. You need to know that.

According to Page Six, Master Thicke (many dry heaves abound) threw himself an endlessly classy Divorce Party last Friday, where ". . . he was in great spirits, and put on a mix of music including pop, hip-hop, older stuff from the ’90s and soul. Everyone was dancing until past 3 a.m." Thanks for the playlist and sched, anonymous source of boring. Also, using the phrase "older stuff from the '90s" is troubling to my brain.

But that's not all. LEONARDO MF-ING DICAPRIO was there to assist in the popping of the bottles and whatever-ing of the models. He was probably blowing vapor ciggie smoke all up in that bitch. And you KNOW that Leo wore that damn hat. He had to. The dress code was douche casual.

Whatever, Robin. Slang that thang all over the globe and see if we care. We're all collectively too busy for your shit with preparing our Halloween costumes. I've already called being this kid, so everyone else can get off his jock, that costume is officially taken. I WROTE IT ON THE SIGN-UP SHEET.







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My Attempt At One Of Those "What's In My Bag?" Things

I'm sorry for coughing all over your face. I would have edited that shit out, but then my eyeballs were all watery, and I didn't want it to seem as if I was just emotional over a purse. I really over-explained all of that.

Anyway, here's what I keep in my purse all the time. Do things feel awkward between us now?



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I Was On Conan Last Night, And Now I'm "The Audience Lady"

I'm also a super-slutty liar, according to YouTube comments. But more on that later.

I went to Southern California this weekend. It was my fifth wedding anniversary, and my husband friggin' loves theme parks. Like, nine-year-old-kid levels of loving theme parks. I attempt to be generous of spirit for 0.0343% of my life, so I decided to go to Disneyland et al with him, even though I was all:

I was LITERALLY like this while we were there:

That's me in the blue hat, in the fetal position. Like an actual unborn baby. On a ride created for small children. I hate theme parks.

But, on a more fun note, I got some tickets to go see a taping of Conan. My husband and I have both been big fans of Conan O'Brien since he started his show in the early 90s (#weold), so I thought it would be perfect for our anniversary trip.

We decided that I should make a sign for the show, because we had the idea that maybe we would get closer seats or some shit. You know I like to get Latarian in this bitch. So this is what we came up with.

The bottom one was my husband's original sign idea. I came up with the top one, because it's effing true. Nothing really more to that short-ass story. Except that I suck a big one at drawing (writing?) a block letter 's'. In hindsight, I should have just gone for a solid one of these:

The next day, we get to the taping and get really great seats. No one even took a cursory look at my sign. I still hadn't decided which side to hold up when Conan came out of the monologue. I'm a shitty planner. Here's part of what happened next.



We had a good time with it. I got to share a few of my unique crushes (King of Breakfast, anyone?) with America. We three-way hugged Conan after the show. It was a good day.

Today, I woke up to people texting me this screenshot.

THE AUDIENCE LADY?!? Did I wake up as a matronly 74 year old? Am I Dorothy Zbornak? Did I menopause overnight? Actually, maybe. I've been having the night sweats. We'll discuss that later.

I jokingly told a friend that I would rather be called a tramp than a lady. But be careful what you wish for, and all that shit, because then came the YouTube comments. Here are some of my favorites.

Well, that escalated MF-ing quickly.

It actually wasn't. At all. Unless you mean a script in my head, where I created a moderately interesting sign on a drugstore posterboard and somehow became a writer for Conan's show. That was my brain script.

"Shit cray." Okay. Possibly.

I can be a bitch. How did you know? Are you my mom? Now for the one that hurts the most.

Screw you, "I'll just pick random numbers as my screen name" person. Screw you.



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Allure Insiders Get The Look: Ariel Halloween Makeup Edition

It's almost Halloween up in here (up in here)! That's my ride-or-die favorite time of year, and to kick off ye olde costume season, I did a little tutorial for The Little Mermaid for my latest "Get the Look" Allure Insiders video.

I might have even attempted my own Ariel-esque hair flip in this video. You'll have to watch and find out how that turned out, although I'm sure that you can deduce the outcome, you little Sherlock Holmes.

Happy (almost) Halloween!



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My Three Favorite Mascaras Right This Minute

I'm a pretty fickle sister when it comes to mascara. I rarely am all, "Damn, I love this mofo!" But, I currently feel that way about THREE mascaras. Don't slut-shame me.

Watch and let me know if you feel the same. Or other ones I need to try. I'm always open to adding more to my repertoire. (I'm wiggling my eyebrows in a creepy way right now.)




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Watch Jessica Lange Pull An Us And Pretend That Lea Michele Doesn't Exist

JK, Lea. I follow you on Instagram for some inexplicable reason. And that dress is beautiful. And you have great hair. Okay, enough nice crap. Let's get to the bitchassness.

Much gratitude to Gawker, and more specifically Rich Juzwiak, for bringing the video below into my life. (And even more thanks are owed to Rich for introducing me to the likes of Grey Gardens and Paris is Burning via his blog FourFour.) I really can't imagine living my day-to-day life without seeing Lea Michele be completely ignored by the light of our lives, Jessica Lange, now that I've been exposed to its glory.



I'm sure this all happened because Ms. Lange was wondering the same thing that we all are: HOW LONG DO YOU NEED TO POSE FOR A HANDFUL OF PICTURES? That and Jessica was probably just trying to get inside and see if all of the catered pizza rolls were gone, like any sane human would do.

I will admit that it takes me 908543095 minutes to take a semi-decent photo of myself to use in beauty-related posts using a camera timer in my cave of solitude, but I don't possess TV-levels of attractiveness. I don't even have infomerical-levels of beauty. Not to mention, my eyes are usually mid-flutter and I look like this in every picture:

I would hate to be a famous. Most of your awkward social interactions are filmed and spread around like Justin Bieber's circa 2012 haircut in Alabama (I can say that, my family's from Alabama and I kind of enjoy Lynyrd Skynyrd) so assholes like me can make fun of you. I don't think that there's a video of me falling flat on my face in Wal-Mart while wearing slutty knee-high boots from Charlotte Russe in 2007, even though that really happened. I'll just stick to being a mediocre normal.





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