Well, it’s a question. When I was little I used to ask myself what Anne Murray would do…then it became Kate Jackson. Yeah, that’s how old I am!
In any case, men can do a lot worse than to ask themselves: What Would Tom Jones Do? Think about it: rudderless milquetoasts everywhere suddenly become assertive, seductive, sweaty, ice-cool, red hot, and Welsh-American-accented!
From CulturePulp, by Mike Russell
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“The most annoying, condescending thing that friends, fans, journalists, and people from my previous life would do,” he remembered, “is tap me on the shoulder and say, ‘Enjoy the ride.’ As if the five of us weren’t completely aware that fame can be a fleeting thing.
It was like, fuck you.
Enjoy the ride being an accountant.”
Ted Allen of Queer Eye for the Straight Guy via The Vulture
stolen from Corporate Casual
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What does the future hold for metrosexuals, other than steadily-declining fashionability and vague, doomed, and renumerative jobs in the Middle East? Oh, if only there were an oracle, a source of the wisdom and self-knowledge for which metrosexuals are so very not renowned.
Ladies and Gentlemen, presenting:
The Barista
The fool who makes your coffee languishes at the bottom of the metrosexual heap — shaggy hair, shabby chic, non-existent manicure. So why does he seem so serene and self-actualized? He makes a hundred drinks in a morning, yet he always remembers to make yours extra hot, with soy milk. At first you dismiss him as an overeducated joker. Before long, you realize he’s a nurturer, cheerleader, caffeinated shaman. What is it with this guy? Is he a graduate student? Does he play in a band, or what? You ask him, but he only smiles, and pulls another shot.
Meaning: Vision, flexibility, resourcefulness, travel.
Reversed: Indecision, with a change to come.
Go on, go on. Deck yourself out; deal yourself in. You know you want to. The Clubs are represented by Martini glasses, and the suits are Shoes, Potions, Forks, and Clubs! That is what I call playing with a full deck.
The Major Arcana, as if you pampered city dwellers couldn’t have already guessed, are:
The City (Seattle), The Loft, the Gay Pal, the Closet (no reason these are adjacent, none at all), The Personal Trainer, The Salon, Fabulousness, The Diet, The Gym, The DJ, Abs, the Designer, Therapy, The Barista, The Manicurist, Age, The Partners, The Sale, Prescriptions, Cocktails, The Stylist, and The Decorator.
Now I need a Ketel One Martini; I feel as if I just finished a Bret Easton Ellis novel. Do they still make those?
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Sometimes, there’s just no other words for it but “Baby Hewey-faced motherfuckers screwing over our country,” and no better messenger of the divine truth than Henry. Fucking. Rollins.
Selah.
Transcript coming soon. And yes, it must be admitted I got this from BoingBoing.
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Awwwwwwww, isn’t He adorable? So Cthute! Hat-tip to Cobwebs for this one.
Monster by Mail is as bizarre a fundraiser as I’ve ever seen, and as you know, we’re all about the bizarre and somewhat about the raising of funds here (didja notice the Paypal button? Support Operation Global Media Domination Now! Currently the status of OGMD is Global Media Slightly Annoyed, and that simply won’t do!) so here we are, posting about it.
It’s a natural, really. The birth of a baby brings great joy to the family and, not infrequently, thoughts of grim death, particularly at three in the morning when you’ve got a big meeting at eight and the sprog has been trying out for the Olympic Yodelling team for the past four hours.
And it is a fact universally acknowledged that a young, artsie, American couple in possession of a new baby must be in want of a bit of spare cash.
So Monster by Mail was born.
Summer is Here! And you know what that means: BRAAAINS! This round of Monster By Mail is a good-old fashioned standby: Zombies. Here’s how it works. You give me a name for your Zombie and I’ll draw it. You’ll get the original art in the mail within a few days. For an extra ten spot, I’ll make a video of the creation of your monster. And for the best value, choose the Mondo Monster Package* which gets you art, video and a “See No Evil, Hear No Evil, Eat Brains” Zombie T-shirt with your order. (See it right here.) (And yes, I can do cartoonish zombie portraits if you ask nicely and provide a decent photo.) So what are you waiting for? Grab a blunt object and let’s start killing… er, drawing some zombies!
And now, the colouring book! Why didn’t I think of this for my birthday? Colouring in a Cthulhu colouring book has got to be the best way I can think of to prevent creeps from talking to you on the bus!
Zombie Letters from e-zombie.com
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raincoaster 