Showing posts with label saucy chatter. Show all posts
Showing posts with label saucy chatter. Show all posts

Wednesday, March 14, 2012

Some saucy tidbits that the Ying Yang Twins don't care anything about.

Here are some super important things that have come to my attention this week that I want you to know about.

Because I'm a giver.

Also, I'm a bit drunk because I've discovered the best new boughie cocktail that I just made up.  It's called a Frappuccini.  It involves a Starbucks bottled frappuccino - the stuff that I was addicted to in high school but now limit it to when I get a truck stop bacon, egg and cheese biscuit which is both way too many times and not as often as I want it to be.

So if you have some leftover from your truck stop biscuit run in the morning, I would recommend pouring in some vanilla vodka that night and then your shit is on and poppin.  You can probably shake over ice in a martini shaker over just stir it all up in a mason jar.  I'll let you guess which one I did.

I don't have measurements because I don't measure anything and it's pretty hard to fuck this up.  You could also throw in some Godiva liqueur if you have some laying around...  

I might drink bottled frappuccinos from truck stops but every classy Madame has Godiva liqueur in her fridge.  Drink up, boughie babies.

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I love these little shelters built by students at Taliesen West (Frank Lloyd Wright's home and architectural studio) photographed by the dudes from BUILDblog.
Apparently, the students build them and live in them at the same time.  

I would like one for my backyard.

I don't really know how I could build around the crates of sunscreen I would need were I to attempt something like this but I guess that's part of the design challenge.



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Lonny came back this weekend after taking a break for a few months due to lack of dinero and probably just general economic fuckery thanks to our shitty financial sitch.  It's probably because I've been forcing my employer to buy my birth control pills and they can't invest in new manufacturing facilities because my vagina has needs, yo.  Slut needs.


But I was glad to see it back in my inbox - Lonny that is - even if I'm pretty sure they publish the same lucite and chintz bedroom every issue.  


But they also came back with these pages:


Notice that giant snake pillow on bottom right? Kinda hard to miss. 
I understand the need for advertisers and incoming cash and have zero problem with entire pages devoted to their wonders - hell, I just want pretty pictures and don't really care who people have to blow to get them - but that $3800 stuffed snake in the corner isn't "playful" as you describe, it's insulting.  


Check yourself, Lonny.  Fuck yourself, maker of $3800 snake pillow.

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After my kitchen remodel last year I feel like all us remodelers are part of a family.  A very large, very poor family that bond over our shared nightmares and facial tics.  So I get kinda obsessed about looking at other people's real world renovations.  Not magazine renovations with $3800 stuffed snakes but people like us!  People like us that appreciate the finer things in life like Frappuccinis.   



So I was obviously excited to see the super fresh kitchen renovation of my blog friend @CapreeK of MAIYA.


The before:
Brown explosion. 


The after:
Shout out to another kitchen that keeps the existing white appliances!
Panty Explosion.  It's amazing what some new paint, tile, countertops and thousands of hours of pain and suffering can do to transform a space.  I feel my facial tic coming on...  


Keeping the existing floor and painting the cabinets themselves (daaaang, y'all), it's nice to see someone work with what their mama gave 'em.  


Hhhmm... methinks glass tile for my bathroom? One day...
Um... girl, I hope your mama did not give you those weirdo sex toys up there on the left...?!  Or are they salt shakers?  Regardless, there is probably a Ying Yang Twins song that applies to this kitchen somehow.  


You twerked that kitchen good.


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After we went to the window and then to the wall let's go to space!!

"In order to use the litterbox, you must first create the universe."  Cat Sagan, you are so wise.
I just found the Cat Scientist tumblr.  It makes me exceedingly happy.  


Combined with a Frappuccini, the awesomeness might make my brain explode and then there would be glittery sauce everywhere.  Until it would drip down your balls...

I think the only bad thing that happened this week is that Ying Yang Twins have not responded to my repeated requests to release a new album.  Just wait'll you see my $3800 snake!  It will beat you up.  And then maybe you could nap on it.

Maybe Cat Sagan can talk some sense into them.

Sunday, March 4, 2012

Greg from accounts payable said this is the only article about Pinterest you'll ever need to read.

You can't go anywhere lately without hearing about my online lovah Pinterest.  

here
The only thing more popular than Pinterest is the cacophony of voices from social media gurus telling you about how popular Pinterest is.  I'm just as addicted to reading all of this poor excuse for info that I thought I'd take a break from my regularly scheduled fabulosity, anoint myself a social media guru for a day (it's pretty easy, I found the instructions on Pinterest) and talk to these people - guru y guru.
 
Generic Pinterest Article #1: "So what IS this Pinterest thingy?  It's the new social media!" says social media guru whose only Twitter followers that are all other social media gurus.  Um no.  It appears that you write for a social media company but welcome to 2010, asshat.  Because I'm a design blogger I'm obviously more evolutionarily awesome than all other bloggers because have you seen my banner?  Saucy.  

I dreamed about a service like this for a long time and I remember when SF Girl by Bay was beta-testing it because that's how much I needed something to organize my life - a life whose value is solely built upon the shaky house of cards of hoarding images of pretty interiors.  My Google Reader literally cried with relief.  Frankly, I just want to gloat for being an early adopter for once in my life.  LET ME HAVE THIS!!

But seriously, don't bogart Pinterest like it was invented solely for your own nefarious Social Media (with capital letters) ways.  I would use it without any kind of social media component so don't bother sending me your 'Top 10 Ways to Master Pinterest Like the Shaolin Monk of Social Media You'll Never Become' because I'm already on this like a mommy blogger on a crock pot recipe.

Or like a saucy madame on a crock pot recipe because that shit is delicious. 

Generic Pinterest Article #2: "Pinterest is blowing up, yo.  Why is it so popular?" says social media guru who has only used Pinterest for a day.  Is it really that hard to figure out?  It combines everything we like about the internet into one place: the speed and brevity of Twitter, the bookmarking of Evernote with an easier interface, the connection of social media because humans generally like other humans and we especially want other humans to like OUR brand of human without all that stupid obligation of Facebook AND it's fun.  Done.  We don't really need to analyze fun although I think I've read a few articles about it.

It's probably exploding now because of the 'Theory of Compound Interest for the Internet' that I just made up.  Or probably the tipping point.  Malcolm 's Gladwell wrote a book about it.  Maybe you should check it out.  In Malcolm's terms - we're all connectors now, grasshopper.  


Generic Pinterest Article #3: "Hey let's use Pinterest to "build content" for your brand" says the marketing asshole who wants to suck all the spontaneous joy from the internet. Why you hate teh kittehs so much, marketing dude?  Sometimes the worlds of marketing and spam overlap in a Venn diagram of Terrible Things to Avoid So People Don't Hate You and Curse Your Very Existence.  Filling your boards with your own junk and then leaving lame comments on my pins so I will come back and find you is so transparent and ruins my day.  

Six months ago Pinterest was all young, sweet and unsullied by marketers and free business schmucks posting their lame attempts at self-promotion.  But now that social media gurus have sniffed out this new barely legal site they're trying to pop her fun cherry by fingerbanging her in a dark corner of the internet.  KEEP YOUR FILTHY HANDS TO YOURSELF!  You're the #TeamFollowback of Pinterest and a disgusting pervert who preys on young girls.  WHAT KIND OF MONSTER ARE YOU??!!

I just read an article suggesting that businesses pin pictures of their employees on a board so people will put a "face" with their company.  That is some serious kind of fucked up.  No one wants to see Greg from Accounts Payable at last year's Christmas party.  And I'm sure as hell not going to repin Greg unless Greg looks like Ryan Gosling and says funny things that make my heart melt.  But you should still keep your hands where I can see them Greg.  Also, maybe find a new job.  I bet Pinterest will have classifieds next month.


But not everyone is in love with Pinterest.  Haters gonna hate:


Generic Pinterest Haticle #1: "Don't bother with Pinterest because it's nothing but crafts and bible quotes" says newb who's scared of new things but hides it as condescending judgment.  I can tell that you've never actually used Pinterest before because - and this might blow your mind - you choose who you follow.  Take a minute...  I know, right?!  What a novel concept that's exactly like Twitter and tons of other social media avenues that have come before this.  

If you looked at the general Twitter stream and saw a bunch of women saying they wished Chris Brown would beat them in the face you wouldn't say "Golly, this Twitter thang is terrible!" you would bemoan the decline of human intelligence like the rest of us.  Your Pinterest/Twitter feed/Google reader is only as good as who you follow so if hate what you see, you need to have a serious convo with the man in the mirror.

Besides, if someone pins lame stuff then you get to flex your God muscles (it's like doing a Kegel) and hit that unfollow button.  You like playing the divine Almighty of the Interwebz right?!  So be compassionate like Sir Axl Rose, the Jeezus of the Beatles, about someone else's possibly horrible taste and live and let live.    

In all fairness, I've mocked the bible crafters aplenty (ohmigawd self-realization... I'm a scared newb in LIFE!) but we're all blog sisters.  Also, I write a blog about unicorns, vaginas, unicorn vaginas and wall paint colors so no one should listen to what I say.  Except for now, obviously. [MS sidebar: don't.] 

But seriously - I don't care if your pins look like Game of Thrones had a sexy and totally possible menage a trois with Kelly Wearstler and nutella, I will unfollow you if you clog my pretty pretty Pinterest stream with cascades of inspirational quotes.   Ok I'll probably just unfollow that board and keep the interiors porn...

Generic Pinterest Haticle #2: "Pinterest is nothing but crafts and bible quotes and only for LAAAADIES and eww people with boobs are silly." 

......flames on the side of my face....

I will fuck you with this bedazzled pencil holder I just made from a discarded coffee can for your backhanded sexist trope.  Didn't we work through our feelings of shock and terror about 'stereotypical lady interests are important and worthwhile endeavors' a few years ago after Etsy began going bananas with knitting and soaps?  It's damaging and ignorant for businesses to consistently be surprised when things that cater towards women or include typically female interests do well or drive trends.  Chattanooga has more cupcake stores than mustache waxing boutiques which I think proves my point exactly.  

My vagina and stomach says "you're welcome, economy."

Apparently the threat of possibly seeing one girly fashion post float across their dash is too much for some dudes to handle so they have retreated to the safe world of Gentlemint.  Or as I call it - Peenterest (not to be confused with Pornterest which is a real site).  Gentlemint is the clunky cousin that ripped off Pinterest and only allows guns and helicopters to be put in a mint.  Also, it's for fifth grade boys.

Because when you stereotype women's interest as lame then stereotyping men's interest MUST be good!  

Generic Pinterest Haticle #3: "I don't like this *air quote* Pinterest *end air quote* because I value the written word more than your silly pictures" says guy with a beard smoking a pipe at the patio outside of Starbucks who is sad no one commented on his one pin.  I think we've already established that I as a Design Blogger of Amazing Interiors and Dildo Jokes am more evolutionarily advanced so I feel comfortable saying simmer down, Hemingway.  I don't have to write a haiku about why every pin touches my soul.  I have 3000 pins and that's a lot of fucking haikus.  Pretty soon people will be judging the quality of my poetry.  Will you never stop with your judging??!!

Oh wait, they (ahem... me) already judge the quality of your captions anyway because yes, people's captions are stupid.  That's why I erase most of them and write my own stupid ones.  Or use a secret pictograph system that no one can decipher but me including phrases like "---" "nice" and "lolz. dead."  Now no one can figure out why I like this picture!

Because - and here's the real secret - I'm a selfish asshole and I don't give 2 flying fucks whether or not you "get" why I pinned something.  I pinned it for me and don't have to explain anything to you unless you're the FBI of the internet in which case no I didn't steal that image from Flickr because I totes respect Creative Commons license to the best of my abilities in understanding it.  If you want to repin that image and write your own haiku, that's fine.  If not, you should unfollow my pinboard titled "Things that make me lolz then die."


Generic Pinterest Haticle #4: "You are going to go to jail for pinning copyrighted material and Pinterest will leave you to rot in your cinder block cell and rats will eat your fingers and poop in your mouth and then Pinterest will sell your photography and make millions off of you.  Mwahahahahaha!  And you'll have dirty prison hair."  says doomsday theorist who is also stocking panic room because the Mayans told them so.  Honestly, I have no clue about this type of thing but hasn't Tumblr been doing the exact same thing for years and we all seem to be okay?  

I have much more of a problem with pinners not pinning correctly and losing the sources - that is wrong and it makes hipsters, bloggers and artists mad and we all run the world so that's not cool.  If you can't understand how to pin from a permalink or include the name of the source then you need to give up your driver's license because I don't trust you to be on the road with me.

Considering I haven't heard about a single copyright infringement case involving any sites like this I think we can all rest easy for a bit.  Is Pinterest tracking our paths, skimming money from our links and eventually going to sell our pinning profiles to Google so they can tailor ads specifically to us for things that will make us lolz and die?  Prolly.  Thus is the secret life of the interwebz.  But the few times I've dealt with Pinterest personally (ironically because they had to take down some pins that Houzz did not want me to pin because it might infringe on their users rights) and their new anti-pin code makes me think they care a LOT more about lil ol' me than Mr. Google.  But I guess I've drunk the Pinterest Kool-Aid willingly.  

Or drunk the blood orange margarita which you can totally repin right here.

I think I'm done being a social media guru so I can go get drunk and pin more.

Thursday, June 30, 2011

The Five Stages of Urinary Grief

1. Denial
Before I get on this flight I better chug 30+ oz of water because I haven't had anything to eat or drink this morning and flying always makes a Madame dehydrated.  It's only an hour and a half flight and even though I have the delicately sized bladder equal to that of a newborn kitten I'm sure it'll be fine!  My skin will thank me.


here
*one hour and twelve minutes later*


2. Anger
Christ on a cracker!  I miscalculated and they just turned on the fasten seat belts sign for our final descent and I think my bladder might explode.  I would have thought the fact that my vagina is completely numb due to the dangerous amounts of vibrations on this toy plane would have made this feeling less intense but I was terribly terribly wrong.  I cannot believe I'm so fucking stupid as to keep reading even when I knew I had to pee!!     ARRRHHHHH! *bladder throbbing*  It hurts, it HURTS... I fucking HATE these airline regulations!!!  Why do they discriminate against people with superhuman kidney function?  I didn't choose this I was born this way!  I will have a bladder pride parade up and down this motherfuckin aisle until you let me in that gawddamned bathroom!


here
*crazy desperation has officially set in*


3. Bargaining
Fucking distract yourself with something!  *turns to sleeping middle-aged businessman in the next seat*  What do you think would happen if I just reached over and grabbed his crotch while he's still sleeping?  It's such an intimate seating arrangement I'm basically sitting in his lap right now so it's not that much different... Would he flip out and call the flight attendant over or just let it happen?  I could just punch him instead...  What's likelier to get me off this plane to a bathroom faster?  If I go for the crotch grab and he just sits there then I'm fucked.  He's not wearing a ring so he's single which means I'd then be forced into a handjob on a plane because that's the polite thing to do.  Manners.  What if he reciprocated and grabbed MY crotch?  Ewwww!!!  What kind of person does that?!  I'd pee all over him for sure and although I'd win at the mile high club game that's just nasty.   But maybe he's gay which would guarantee that he would flip the fuck out.  But look at his that shirt he's wearing and the large quantities of ear hair - not gay.  I think my only alternative is that I punch him in the stomach so they'll land the plane faster to arrest me and therefore I can pee sooner.  Unless TSA is like that book I read one time about a Nazi that tortured a prim elderly woman by not letting her pee until she couldn't take it anymore and gave them information.  I would crack so fast...  


Dear baby jeebs in the manger, please don't let me become a airplane molester Nazi with an anger management problem that ends up in jail!  I will do anything! I promise not to ever drink water again.  In fact I will only drink my own urine because I believe in recycling because I love this planet so much, if you just get me to a bathroom soon... *squeezes*  I don't want to go to jail for being a pervert or by breaking in-flight regulations by rushing the front cabin!!!  I think you get the death penalty for that but I don't know because I never listen to the safety speech in the beginning...


here
*Thighs and back are cramping.  Hands and arms are shaking.  Breathing is shallow.  Silently whimpers...*


4. Depression
I'm going to drown in urine from the inside.  This is the end.  I will die.  I will die a humiliating death that will be tweeted all over the world.  URINE IS NOT THE KIND OF SAUCE I MEANT!  All this work and a Madame's legacy will be death by pee on a blogging trip.  No one will ever invite me anywhere again.  


Now we're just sitting at the tarmac.  I can see our gate.  I realize this is karma for some heinous crime I must have committed (possibly mind raping the guy next to me...?) because I'm a horrible horrible person.  A horrible person punished with the burden of a miniscule bladder.  I deserve this.  Now's a good time to take up cutting...


here
*becoming one with my shame*


5. Acceptance
Ok.  I'm here and I put myself here.  I can tap into my mindfulness training I received that time I read the back of that meditation book and just be in the moment.  You can make it.  One agonizing shaking cramping hurting bloated moment at a time.  We're taxiing to the gate in the slowest landing ever recorded in the history of aviation but we're so close I can almost smell the Cinnabon from inside the airport.  And if you can't make it and pee everywhere you'll just claim you have narcolepsy of the bladder. They'd believe you.  These people are strangers and they'll most likely just step over your crumpled body on the floor anyway.  Such is my fate.  I didn't like these pants anyway.


Briefly back to Anger...
Holy frozen peeballs lady, if you don't walk faster or get your fucking child out of the way I will punch you and your slow-ass baby in the back of the head, I'm fucking SWIMMING back here!!


omigawd, omigawd, OMIGAWD...!!!!!


here
I made it.  


Spiritual nirvana was reached.


No jail time.


*blissful urinary afterglow*