Monday, November 30, 2009

Ima get my champagne on before I have to get my bitch on.

After that beast of a post yesterday let's keep it simple today.  Here are some things that are on my Monday radar as I'm transitioning back into reality from pie-induced diabetic coma:

- HOARDERS!!!  Gawd bless this is my favorite show ever!  I think I like it because I'm one mental breakdown away from these people.  I already 'decorate' using piles. 

- Interesting article about DWR from Fast Company via Apartment therapy.  I don't really know much about DWR lately since they quit sending me a catalog like 5 years ago because I never ordered any of their stuff.

- Tiger Woods is an abused spouse maybe?!  I had a mega crush on his cablasian ass when I was fifteen back when he was the best thing since sliced bread. Uh I mean sliced WHOLE WHEAT bread that is.  Tiger Woods y'all. Tiger Woods y'all.  Relive it here if you don't remember what the hell I'm talking about.

- I've started a compost pile and have never been more excited about rotting refuse as I am right now!  Well except for when I accidentally sucked up cat poop in the leaf shredder where it was obliterated and therefore reignited the vomit-inducing stench.  I'm guessing the leaf shredder bag is not machine-washable. Expect more posts later about composting because I don't really know anything about it but I'm learning a lot and developing some very strong opinions about the matter which I can't wait to share.  Photo from dkhlucy on flickr.

- Fun little convo with Jonathan Adler and Simon Doonan.  Love them. Kdubs you need to take a lesson from your Top Design co-host on wit.  Is that show ever going to come back on??

-Since "Modern" is in my name I thought that maybe this little bit about design was appropriate.

- This website from A Cup of Jo for all your adult art needs.  I mean art for grown-ups not porn.  Or check this out.

Sunday, November 29, 2009

The kwid and the whale

I've been sitting on this post about Kelly Wearstler for about two weeks (that's like a year in internet time) after I saw her new beach house in Met Home.  I keep waffling between wonderment and WTF with her.  I'm also really feeling the "dubyas" for this.  She is heretofore known as Kdubs. 

So I'm just going to say it.

Out loud.

I'm really not liking Kdubs right now. I know. I just heard the gasps across the internet. Anytime someone questions the rock goddess of interiors a design student somewhere hot glues her fingers together and cries. As the type of madame who appreciates the ridiculous and pushes boundaries for sport I totally get her relevance.  I know she reinvented Hollywood Regency and we all bowed at her feet and bought our Parsons tables, David Hicks knockoff fabrics and giant white ceramic animals like we wanted a fucking pet sematary de blanc in our foyers. But srsly.  Things have taken a turn for the worse lately. A lot worse. A turn for some kind of psychotic kitty litter 80’s explosion worse.

Revolutions of style have to start with controversy somewhere before it's expunged of all inherent creative value on its way to the masses.  Let's take a look at the source of the magical design spring where it all begins on top of Kdubs mountain complete with ASID fairies and frolicking decorator unicorns.  It then trickles down to the valley of cheap knockoffs called Zgallerie and Target.  I guess if I'm going to follow through with that metaphor they are the design equivalents of the mighty Mississip. 

Check out the beach house below.  Nothing says summer fun like a house full of beige.

But first let’s set the mood – Vogue said she listens to new wave constantly.* Why am I not surprised. I bet her young kids love it. (I totally made that part up about the kids.  Let's just leave them out of this.  Let's leave new wave out of this too because it's awesome.  Just not 24/7.) 


Oh gawd thing are not starting off so well.  I'm know that's like kabillion dollar custom wallpaper but I'm pretty sure that those bitches over at Design on a Dime could do that for a couple of rolls of masking tape and some reject paint from Home Depot.  In all honesty if you're going to do this kind of thing right you should just wallpaper the ceiling to at least continue the dried spaghetti explosion.  Don't even get me started on the nightstands.  Where's all the crap like my moisturizer, carmex, stash of Sour Patch Kids, Sarah Palin's new book, Walmart alarm clock and lube???  OHHHH it's hidden in the pyramid.  Wait are those lamps?  WTF?  And of course use the mirrors to look at your bedhead and dried drool on your face first thing in the morning set against that wallpaper so you can start your day off right with a nice seizure.

Here's the dressing room.  At least the walls are kind of a solid color to prevent further seizures.  Ok there's a big head de blanc with Pippi Longstocking hair.  I can dig it - he'll hold my bracelets.  But...  um...  Pardon me for being a little slow.  I certainly wouldn't want to offend anyone with my retarded questions but WHERE THE FUCK ARE ALL THE CLOTHES????!!!!!   I don't even see a doorknob anywhere - am I going to die in here???!!!!  Is that table one of those puzzles from Cracker Barrel that I have to put back together and once I solve it a secret door will let me out like some kind of Indiana Jones and the Vault of Couture?  At least I'll have some strategical placed shoes to prance around in while I slowly starve to death.

Um...   is that Andre the Giant's fossilized colon?

I don't know. I just...  sigh.  I don't know.  The chair looks lonely and I'm pretty sure I'd get dizzy and disoriented from all the marble and cut myself on something in there - the broken console, the chair leg, the ART! 

Ok things aren't all bad!!!  A nice small vignette with lots of textures and shapes that doesn't make me want to have a seizure.  Loving the fortress of solitude lamp.  And you can never go wrong with Jenga. JEN-GA!!!  JEN-GA!!!  Once you touch it you can't keep your hands off of it!!! 

Jesus Christ are you serious???!!!  Did a scarecrow's head explode on the ceiling??  Is that some kind of jaw bone on the coffee table??  Why is there a little man stranded on some boxes over there?  Somebody should help him get down so he can go play in the GIANT WRINKLED VAGINA LIPS CHAIRS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!   Gawdolmighty.  I'm choosing not to even look at those monstrous chairs on the left.  And that's saying a lot but only because the other seating in this room looks like GIANT WRINKLED VAGINA LIPS!!!!!!  Fuckin A.
In case you're bored of beige and vaginas check out her new regular house.  You know the one where she spends her non beach time.

Oh NOW you put the wallpaper on the ceiling!   You can admire it from the vinyl? uh... foam? uh...quilted spandex? couch.  At least you can put your feet on the coffee table because it's covered in old vinyl floor tiles.  Design on a Dime I hope you're taking notes on this shit.

DOES IT EVER FUCKING STOP!!!    You know I don't even use decorative pillows on the bed because I hate taking them off at night (I usually just prop them between my knees for lower back support or cry into them) so this whole dining table bust community really isn't working for me.  Is that girl in white pooping in statue form???  Is there a special shelf where all these go while you eat or do they just watch you and silently judge your caloric intake?

BEETLEJUICE. BEETLEJUICE. BEETLEJUICE!!!!!!!!!!!!!  Ok I think I'm starting to get it - she actually has a really good sense of humor and loves the 80's (uh duh look at the beach house above).  ok. ok.  I can appreciate zany - I love Tim Burton.  But this room needs a lot more Delia Deetz and shrimp cocktail.

This is just exhausting.  I thought we were cool at the Beetlejuice thing but now THIS???!!!  Christ on a cracker.  Just...  gah.
Okay I'm done looking - my eyes hurt but my brain is fired up.  I get that she likes bizarre.  Bizarre is good.  But every little fucking piece of fuckity fuck can't be bizarre in your house because too much of ANYTHING becomes bland.  Bizarre has to have context.  But bizarre on top of bizarre with no element of human habitation just looks post-apocolyptic with absurdly expensive wallpaper. You have to have contrast for the bizarre to actually feel special.   In fact check out this passage I found on wikipedia when I was looking for ways to make the awesome blog title work:

... truly to enjoy bodily warmth, some small part of you must be cold, for there is no quality in this world that is not what it is merely by contrast. Nothing exists in itself. If you flatter yourself that you are all over comfortable, and have been so a long time, then you cannot be said to be comfortable any more.

— Moby-Dick, Ch. 11
Booyah!  Herman Melville totally knows what I'm talking about.  I think... wait.  Shit.  What the hell does that quote mean anyway?

Maybe these houses are just missing some fantasy.  I'm not even really getting her trademark "wit" from these rooms.  The Beetlejuice room and the geese chairs feel more forced than fun.  Maybe her sense of humor is way above mine - I think this is funny.  Or maybe Kdubs needs to start watching some Lady Gaga videos to see how it's done.  Gaga ooh la la.  What's the decor equivalent to those Alexancer McQueen shoes?  If you say those fucking vagina chairs I will punch you in the neck.

So to sum up this rambling verbal river - I get it. Or get her I guess.  But I don't like it.  We all have to have our great white whale of design perfection that inspires us to keep working.  That's the reason for all this blog nonsense and decor porn isn't it? 

Really though all I want to know is can I get that whale in white ceramic for my foyer?  It'll look great next to my wrinkled vagina chairs.

*Madame Sunday's note - try looking at everything without the music first.  Kinda lame right?  But the soundtrack definitely creates the necessary mood and I'm feeling not quite as harsh.  But I've already written everything else and I don't feel like changing it.  This is exactly why I do the music and room pairings to flesh out the pictures.  I'm a creative genius!!  I just might be somebody's white whale!  Wait that's not what I meant... 

Thursday, November 26, 2009

A cornucopia of mashed potatoes, familial dysfunction and grunge

Did you ever have to do that thing at your Thanksgiving table where you all had to go around the room and say what you were thankful for?  Yeah we tried that once and it was a disaster.  Perhaps it was the fact that the family was fighting like rednecks at a little league game (but in an emotionally repressed passive aggressive way) and saying what we were thankful for seemed particularly ironic.  Everyone is usually forced to say something meaningful like "my wonderful family" because you're surrounded by them and the big knives that carve the turkey are really close.  I'm pretty sure I mumbled something about how awesome my friends were when I was really thinking about how awesome childhood emancipation probably was.  Either that or Pearl Jam.  I was very thankful for Eddie Vedder for awhile at that age. 

But being thankful is a good thing so I'll type my list below and it'll be way less trite but way more truthful.

1. Mashed potatoes.  duh.

2. The tulip table. One day you will be mine but right now I'm thankful for your mere existence.

3. The ocean and white tshirts.

4. Second chances and infinite possibilities

5. My wonderful (passive aggresive redneck) family

Monday, November 23, 2009

Dressed to kill. Seriously those glitter platforms are dangerous.

The AMAs were on last night but I watched Dexter instead because after I watched Janet Jackson lip sync to a medley while looking like an ewok I just couldn't take anymore.  (love you JJ 4eva!!!)  Unfortunately I missed some Whitney (no Bobby), some Alicia and a lot of Adam Lambert.  A lot of dry-humping, face-to-crotch grinding, guyliner-wearing Adam Lambert. I do confess that I have a gay crush on him.  Or whatever it's called when a straight girl has a glitter crush on a totally and profoundly gay dude.  It's the dark hair and blue eyes and the duckface pout.

Or maybe it's the eyeshadow.   We could make out and then totally reapply each others lipgloss.

On a related note how much do you love Eddie Izzard???!!


So I love questionable gender (my favorite Discovery Health channel shows are about sex changes - go figure!!). I guess it's pretty obvious considering my attraction to  boys that sparkle, wear pale makeup and have bouffant hair.  OMG I just had the BEST IDEA EVARRRRR!!!!!  Twilight must be remade into a gay rock opera with Adam as everyone's favorite Cullen!!  But we'd have to change his name to something more drag appropriate like Glamward the Virgin or Miso Sparkly.  Bella could be Divine. The Cullens could have a dance off with the bad vampires to a mashup of Lady Gaga and Kiss.  I don't know the details I think Hollywood can work that out but I do know that it will be wildly successful.  I'll start working on the Team Glamward tshirts now.

Would you like some fries with your pretension?

So I spend the first 45 minutes or so in the morning just trying to get my brain around the fact that I have to work before the hour of 10 am.  This morning I read this and this on my homepage all courtesy of bing I guess. First of all I can't figure out how the hell to use my MSN/Bing combo homepage because it give me tons of headlines that seem helpful like “who's the latest scientology escapee” or “identify your rash” but when I click on it I’m just transferred to a bunch of search options and not the actual fucking answer. Well I could just google that you dumbass and I’m still no closer to figuring out what these itchy red things are on my arm!!!!!

Anywho, I’m like every middle class upwardly mobile white person in that I love Starbucks. I'm a marketer's dream.  It makes me feel important. It’s an overpriced treat that I have a few times a week because my disposable income only allows for a $4 coffee and NOT for a nice tv or furniture that doesn’t come from the thrift store. It’s the little things in life…

But according to the internet people apparently HATE Starbucks.  GASP!!!!!  I had no idea!!!!  Thanks for the hard-hitting reporting MSN!!!  Yeah, yeah, yeah - they're overpriced, prey on us poor unsuspecting consumers, treat their employess like shit and push out the locals.  And they’re everywhere.  Who gives a fuck? When my hick town got a starbucks I rejoiced and sang hallelujah to the jesus of the caffeine gods. It didn’t take away business from other mom and pop coffee shops because there WEREN’T ANY MOM AND POP COFFEE SHOPS!!!! Now I don’t live in a real city but I have been known to travel to civilization from time to time and when I’m in a big scary giant city and I see that Starbucks it’s like a beacon to me. (WHAT ARE YOU DUANE READE???)   I know exactly what Starbucks will look like inside and exactly what my drink will taste like and exactly what kind of bland forgettable music I’ll drink it to.  I pay extra for the sweet sweet comfort of banality. 

Oh they're losing taste tests??  DUHHH YOU FUCKTARDS!!!!!  The coffee is like pure motor oil and their pumpkin spice latte which I wait ALL. FUCKING. YEAR. FOR tastes like shit this year.  But I get a latte because I like the taste of the Starbucks latte and not for the magical way in which they make their coffee.  I don't go to McDonald's because I want a hamburger I go there because I want something that tastes like McDonald's. 

McDonald's tastes like salt and yellow.

And nobody is writing articles that I could find (but I used Bing so who knows) about how McDonald's is ruining local burger joints and hurting our local economy.  They might be ruining my taste buds with their horrible coffee and slowly killing me by way of heartattack but not my economic neighborhood.*  People should be thanking Starbucks because now those other coffee places can charge $4 for a latte.  What do you think the dollar value menu does to the other local restaurants?  

So frankly if you people live in big cities and and don't want your Starbucks (what's the plural? Starbi?)  I'll take them.  That empty lot between the Check Into Cash and Taco Bell is empty and I'm thirsty.

*They probably are ruining my community but I really don't have the space or inclination to discuss how communities in poverty with large numbers of minorities are affected by the inequitable access to healthy foods and how it is just a convenient side effect of corporate greed in its on-going quest to make more money at the sake of the uneducated and desperate** people in this country.

**desperate for a fish filet

Saturday, November 21, 2009

Scientists really need to study the power of the fangirl. It could propel rockets.

You might think that this blog is so high class and sophisticated that I wouldn't dare read something as low brow as Twilight.  But you'd be wrong.  Waaaay wrong.  I could talk about the poor excuse for literature it is or how it sets bad examples for impressionable young teens but I won't.  Because I don't care about any of that.  I care about sparkly vampires.  I now record the timline of my life in terms of "BT - Before Twilight" and "AT - After Twilight".  DON'T YOU FUCKING JUDGE ME!!!!!! 

So naturally I preordered tickets for a group of friends and we voluntarily stood in line for over an hour on opening day to see New Moon.  I really don't care about seeing something on opening day but I DO care about standing in line judging other people for doing the exact same thing I'm doing.  Oh you use Wet N' Wild for your body glitter?!  What a loser.  Real fans use Urban Decay body shimmer you fucking amateurs!!!  Edward doesn't like cheap drugstore makeup you dumb slut. 

We had spent hours planning our evening - booze soaked snacks to hide in our bags, arrival time and parking, properly planned bathroom breaks.  Or so I thought.  4 hours before showtime TRAFFIC was backed up outside the theater.  Fuck me.  I'm starting to get nervous.  The booze-soaked candy wasn't ready.  I CAN'T LISTEN TO THESE TWEENERS SQUEE WHILE SOBER!!!!!  I chugged some wine so that sufficed.  I held the pee the whole time while we waited until the last possible second but I timed in wrong.  I came out of the bathroom and the line was moving in and my party was gone.  OH JESUS OF THE SPARKLE BEINGS HELP ME!!!!!!!  I panicked and just knocked over some bitches in Team Jacob tshirts just to get back in line somewhere.  I just knew that some 16 yr old usher on a power trip was inside the theater not allowing people to save seats and I was already preparing to punch him in the neck to get to my friends inside.  But apparently other fans aren't as vicious as me and generously allowed me upsies.  I didn't even have to punch anyone.  So now I could just relax.

Until a special undead virgin smirked and a wolf boy got half nekkid and then all hell broke loose with my unmentionables.  I squeed on the inside.

So is this going to win an oscar?  No.  Is it even going to win over any critics?  HELL NO.  But I love it like I love my socially retarded time in ninth grade.  It was full of hot guys, dumb dialogue and overdramatizing and I loved every fucking embarassing minute of it. 

For those of you counting my ninth grade year was 11 years BT.

Sunday, November 15, 2009

Really, though, pancakes at any time of the day (or night) are awesome

I'm a late sleeper.  I love sleeping.  It's one of my favorite hobbies.  But something happened on my slow crawl to thirty - I started waking up earlier.  FUCK!!!  I really like sleeping until noon because that way I can be wearing my pajamas and eating cereal at 4 pm it is totally normal and not pathetic.  But somewhere along the way to 30 my inner clock became an adult.  So now I wake up in this foreign territory called morning.   It may or may not have something to do with this either:

The paw on the face gets me everytime.  It'd be super cute if I didn't know that her little paw just buried some poop and mutilated a bird last night that was probably carrying avian flu.

And since I'm up this early now and apparently an adult I might as well watch the Sunday talking heads.  Somedays I just can't really have Afghanistan, waterboarding and George Will's bowties for breakfast.  So when it's too much it's nice to visit here and remember that life doesn't always suck big hairy politico balls.  It's about awesome stuff.  I even love the word "awesome" so they already had me at the dot com.  Here are some of my favorites:

#954 - Rain Hair

#848 - Old folks who sit on their porch and wave at you when you walk by.  I live in the south so this pretty much your full time job once you retire.

#844 - Celebrities on Sesame Street.  Seriously how much did you love Michelle Obama on Sesame Street this week??!!  Actually just MO period is really awesome.

#738 - When you go out for lunch and come back to a way better parking spot.  My goal in life.

#654 - Peeling that thin plastic film off new electronics.  I leave it on as long as possible to delay the gratification.

Here's a few of mine:

#375940272 - Waking up early on Sunday morning like an adult and deciding halfway the discussion of Afghanistan to go to Starbucks and get some coffee. In your pajamas.  Without brushing your teeth.  Hahahaha baristas!!!!!   I'm wearing socks with kittens on them inside flip flops, no bra and I smell like sleep!!!!! 

#7928292729729829 - Finally remembering to pluck that one stray eyebrow hair that you always find at work and then sit there just touching it ALL DAY because it feels so weird and fucks with your anal retentive tendencies and so you try to pluck it out with your fingers even though that's retarded and never works but you do it anyway because how awesome would that be if it really worked.

#C - Pancakes.  For dinner.

#4 - Finding someone else's spelling, grammatical and numbering mistakes.   hahahaha you suck illiterate assholes!!!

#73636 - Having your own blog so you can start sentences with prepositions.  I LOVE IT!!!!  In your face middle school english teachers!!!!  I break all the rules!!!!

Friday, November 13, 2009

A jolly rancher and the importance of graphic designers

Since we all have to say buh-bye to Met Home soon I've been spending some time over at their website remembering all the reasons why I don't read their magazine.  For every five homes I gaze upon only one looks actually livable.  And by livable I mean not devoid of all human presence like their other features and seemingly interesting enough to read the article for a few minutes until I physcially choke on the pretentiousness.  It's okay to go ahead and break the rules and match my furniture to my museum-quality art pieces you say?  oh tee hee you rakish design devils we're breaking all the rules now!  What furniture goes best with my favorite piece of art?

Once I unlocked the secret to navigating their horrible website (no wonder you're folding Met Home!) I found this rockin pad in southern California.   The designer lady says decorating rules are made to be broken.  I bet she matches her furniture to her art.

Table love already.  White Brno chairs?  Delicious.  Cabinets and counters are perfectly simple.  Maybe too simple?  I'm getting pretty tired of those "euro" handles but I will let them slide this time. They might not seem so bland when it comes kitchen time for me.

Keep talkin kitchen.  I like what you are saying.  Farmhouse sink in  SoCa rancher kitchen?  You really DO break all the rules! 

 Another dining room?  Hells yeah!  I bet they play pin the tail on the mid-century donkey every nite and whoever loses has to sit on the tiny stool at dinner.  And why couldn't you mix up the dining chairs?  It looks like a game of red rover is getting ready to take place right after the fondue party.

Swankified.  Although the seating arrangement isn't really conducive to, well, anything it sure makes for a pretty picture. HI DOGGIE!!!!  However please note the photoshop fail in the bottom right corner. Really Met Home?  Was that the best you could do??  Completely straight arm but the rest of the couch is in perspective???!!!!!!    So your entire magazine features kabillion dollar homes but you're too cheap to spring for a tech geek to move a few pixels around??  Did you even fucking try to fool me??   Jesus.   Nice coffee table though.  BYE DOGGIE!!!!!

Yeaaaah chilrens.  But beware the banister of death.  I'm so clumsy if I even look at that railing it'll shatter into a million pieces and blind me before even had a chance to cling to the beautiful kelly green door.  I see you over there you shy girl.

 Ok exterior walkway and awesome mutant tree totally make up for the photoshop problems inside.  Hi-five to you lady who breaks all the rules.

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

Freak Nasty Pirate

So basically I'm a pirate of coolness.  If someone else does something or has something cool I'll totally hijack your ship and then make off with it and all your style booty like it's my own.  Preferably if it's shiny.  Or glittery.  Or just awesomely nasty.  MFAMB posted these earlier and I almost peed in my Office Depot desk chair they were so divine. This is Trixie Delicious's etsy shop.  She's my kind of ho.  Has a taste for fine vintage china and has a potty mouth.  These are definitely at the top of my Xmas list. 

Mustard and Cocaine = pied-a-terre awesomeness

So those hot foreign bitches over at Desire to Inspire are my goto source for design porn. I'm pretty sure they just do meth all the time to be able to post as much as they do.  Do they have meth in Australia?  Do they have real jobs?  Do they leave their family hungry as they feed me inspiration?

Before we begin play this video while you peruse.  It'll set the mood. 

Here's what I found yesterday - some dude named Dylan Thomas takes some jazzy photos of this super cool pad somewheres.  I'm gonna guess Europe.  Specifically Paris.  (I'm making this all up.)  I'm pretty sure it's the pied-a-terre for the 25 year old heiress to Grey Poupon and her friends who just mooch off her.  Let's snoop!!! 

Stack of magazine with an old tv on top? Is this my house? oh wait - cool frame and giant fashion shot? Nope. Definitely trendy tramp with old money. Nice juxtaposition to the tv to make us voyeurs not feel so overwhelmed by their inherent style and class.

oh yeah. This tramp got some money. Obviously these girls don't eat and only subsist on wine, cigarettes and cocaine (hello mirrored dining table?!).

"zihz iz my boudoir." yeah I think that's also the dress you're going out in tonight. I bet that chair sat some royal asses like Marie Antoinette once. She loved mustard. Also design lesson #1 - rich people can leave things laying around that the dog chewed on and is probably infested with french spiders because it makes them seem non-chalent and unaffected. It just makes us poor people look like we shop at the dump. Which we do but we have to pretend that we don't.

Oh fuck yeah!! I just had a decorgasm. That disco ball makes it. Egg chair? Hot pink. Why the fuck not.

I nailed it. Vintage Eurythmics and The Smiths vinyl. Ladytron is perfect. Creepy doll and actual cds? It says I'm rich enough to be eccentric and seemingly outdated but because I'm so cool I'm years ahead of your hipster trends.  My cds are retro now.

Monday, November 9, 2009

Sexy ninjas and Saarinen

Ok so apparently when you start a blog and post things on the internet the government, market researchers and hot young barely legal teens who want to do dirty things to me all have access to my innermost thoughts.  Or maybe they all read my previous post...  So if I mention my healthy respect for ninjas I GET NINJAS!!  FUCKING NINJA ASSASINS!!!!!  Hot Damn!!!!  From the creators of the Matrix??  It's like my ninja movie wet dream!!  (Well my real ninja wet dream involves some creative use of wasabi and nunchucks.  Is that racist?)  Oh the lead ninja is really a pop star who dances for a living and looks like this?? 

Well now he'll most definitely be the leader of the ninja division of the dance off!  Watch out Britney!! 

But wait...  here's a whole new group of skanks who totally out-slut Britney.  Sex Rehab with Dr. Drew!!!!  Are you shittin me VH1???!!!!!   It's like you took the best parts of Celebrity Rehab and just added more dirty talk, vibrators and crying.  Yet another reason to love Sundays!!!  While my (very small) sense of compassion is slightly piqued about obsessively ogling at the shame and horror stories of others it is in NO WAY enough to deter me from watching this mess or having dirty fantasies about Dr. Drew.  (oddly enough also with wasabi and nunchucks)   

So since you're being generous Mr. Goverment Man and Ms. Market Researcher I would also love to find an unlimited supply of sour patch kids delivered to me by a sexy ninja and a Saarinen tulip table.  Just small things.  But not the chairs.  Please not the chairs.

See I did get around to something design related!!!

Huffpo, zombies and a menage a trois

Like any good liberal I get my news from The Huffington Post and The Daily Show. While drinking my organic fair trade coffee this morning and pretending to read news about health care and the war I ran across this little gem.

Original and others here.

It involves several of my favorite things - Jesus and zombies.  (I see Dracula in there too but vampires will get their own posts later.)  The only way it could get any better would be if it involved ninjas and rednecks. Preferably if the ninjas and zombies could join forces and then battle Jesus and the rednecks in a no holds barred dance off. Oh gawd who would prevail???!!!!! Obviously we know that zombies can dance (uh Thriller... duh!!). Jesus could probably moonwalk on water so that probably cancels out zombie jazz hands. RIP MJ. However ninjas can spin on their heads and build a human pyramid. But the rednecks own line dancing (power in numbers) and have now essentially cornered the market on dancing like sluts.

Ok I think Britney might not even need Jesus because she's got this one in the bag. The awesome black lace legging bag. It's like an American Apparel ad put to music.  She might be able to cure cancer with her power of threesome persuasion.

True ninjas know when they have been bested.

Better luck next time undead rangers of the dance floor.

Sunday, November 8, 2009

Hot mess on a platter

As most firsts go I'm sure this is no different - a bottle of wine, poor judgement and a dash of moxie. While this act of blogging now gives me entree into the cool interwebs slut club (we're not blog whores, we're EMPOWERED!) I would hate to imply that I am somehow remotely qualified to enlighten people upon life's magical mystery tour. I think for all intents and purposes I'm functionally retarded so please enjoy my bumbling attempts at being cool.

I was unfortunately born into some kind of an early 80's time warp (where were you when I needed you Delorean time machine of relevancy??) and I am roughly 3 years behind the rest of society when it comes to pop culture know-how and normal societal trends. Meaning: I'm the Tina Fey* of popping my technology cherry. A little late but hoping this isn't a one night stand with the blogging bandwagon.

The blandwagon.

Feel free to join me on my magic carpet ride of coveting beautiful things, judging people, writing feeble metaphors (see "blogging" and "virginity/sex" mess above) and trying to figure out just what the hell I'm doing. Oh and home reprovements. Not home IMprovements - REprovements. Improvement requires that you make said situation better but I think I only succeed in making "repairs" that merely alter the situation. Same fubar, different reason. See below:

In part of my continued efforts to make my yard my bitch I planted a ginkgo tree in front of my house so all my neighbors can delight in my green thumb and fertile yard. Until I kill that poor unsuspecting tree. And then my neighbors will delight in making the leap from my black thumb of death that kills everything I plant to my obviously cold and blackened empty womb, lack of maternal instincts and shattered self esteem. WELL FUCK YOU MRS. WELCH!!! I'M NOT A LESBIAN (see footnote about Tina Fey) AND I JUST LIKE BEING SINGLE!!!! The ginkgo tree lives to be about billion years old so when you and my shithole house are fossils turning into the real kind of cubic zirconia my tree will be shading our future earthly generations of robots and scientologists.

So the next time my apparently barren body attempts to beautify your view of my front lawn just say thank you and leave me alone to dig that hole and get drunk in hopes of forgeting about yet another piece of flora I am dooming to a slow death of sporadic waterings and lawnmower accidents.

I preemptively pour out a little of my forty for you ginkgo. Here's a picture of what you could have been in a few years:

I call this one Delicious Autumnal Foliage a la Dollar General

This is the tree I saw in front of a Dollar General this week. They sell plastic flowers, three-year old Halloween candy and soap with Korean labels but can somehow manage to have young flourishing trees against crisp cloudless skies. Day One on this bitch and I've already been bested by a giant concrete box of $1 priced merchandise. FML.

*That is in no way a judgemental dig on Tina Fey. I love her. But not in a creepy way. Just the normal way a heterosexual girl has a platonic brain crush on a super cool and talented lady person.