Blogging Note/Happy Weekend: Go See The Special Man

Sorry I'm been lax on the posting this week, homies. I've been working on some other stuff (we'll talk about that another time) that has been taking up all my time. I'M SORRY. I KNOW.

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Next week will probably be shitty too, so preemptive apologies all around. I'll do my best (which you probably know is like a regular person's worst).

In the meantime, let's enjoy this (I'm 99.9999% positive) Addy Award-winning TV commercial. Because it's perfect.



I know that this is a thing of friggin' beauty because I don't even know who my favorite person is in this thing. It's like picking which is my favorite, wine or pizza. (Psssh, it's wine.)

Anyway, enjoy this tiny dude's hair enigma. I'll catch you on the flip side, or the crossroads, whichever comes first.


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Lazy Blogging: Read Something That I Already Wrote

One of my favorite things to do on this planet is drankin' wine and watching garbage TV. Because I'm a trash box that will never quite fill up. So I did a little ditty for Allure this week called, "The 9 Most Fabulous Beauty Moments in Reality Show History, Re-Created." I think it's pretty self-explanatory. Check it out here, if you wish, Buttercup.



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Dammit, I'm Back On The Gloss

I've been on a major lipstick bender for the past few months. It's been a pretty ride-or-die matte lipstick moment in my life, really. Then all of that flew out the window when I got a box of samples from tarte, which included EIGHT SHADES of the LipSurgence lip gloss ($19). I peed my friggin' pants a little, then I fell in love.

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It was like lip gloss screamed, "I'm back, bitches!" in my heart. And it was like we had never parted. Like The Notebook or some shit.

tarte LipSurgence lip gloss in tipsy, $19

Is this too dramatic? Sorry. I've always been an over-actor. Bottom line, these homies are legit. They're super shiny, not sticky, are pretty long lasting (for a gloss), and come in a variety of cupcake-y colors. Here are the ones that I gave a whirl:

I arranged them in order of what I felt like I would wear most to least, but that's really a load of bullshit, because there was not one that I was all, "Ick, nast," about. And that's saying something, because I hate 99% of all things.

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But I would wear every single one of these puppy dogs in the drop of a dime piece, no questions asked. The colors are sheer, but still pigmented, and I think they would be gorgeous on a wide range of skin tones. EVERYONE WINS.

If you want to check them for yourself, see the full tarte LipSurgence cornucopia of offerings here.


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My Life Has Been Pointless Until This Moment, Because Someone (Maybe) Captured A Chupacabra!

Let's be honest. You couldn't even focus on the alleged mythical beast after peeping the more mythical scene on JaQuée's head.(I'm assuming that's the legitimate spelling of Jackie's name.) Is that a teased George Washington wig? If so, get me some wooden teeth and pass me one, because homegirl is the definition of perfection. I want in.

Listen, I don't know what the shit that thing is in the cage, but I'm sure as hell not trusting Arlen Parma's opinion on anything. LAUGH IT UP, ARLEN. THIS IS NO JOKE. You better keep those hater blockers on to protect yourself from my searing eyeballs.

But you know what is a joke? This.

Where did they get this artist's rendering? A late night anime show on Cartoon Network? A pre-teen boy's biology notebook cover? Whoever dragged this effery out of the trash needs to take several damn seats. Quit playing.

The chupacabra bids you good day, news people, and so do I. I really have to go work on some shit. Chupy and I have a ton of new pics to post on our joint "Fans of Queen JaQuée" Instagram account.



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Are You A Basic Bitch?

Okay, even though my trash box ass watches the shit out of Teen Mom, I think I passed. But I definitely learned one thing today -- I want David Puddy to be my primary healthcare provider.

I could listen to him say, "That's some unoriginal ratchet shit right there," through any general medical procedure.

If all of your indicators pointed toward being basic, don't worry. You're here, reading this, instead of checking out celebrity news on aol.com (that's what my dad does -- so basic), so you're good, baby.

Not basic.

via college humor


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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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