This works. And why does it work? Because I’d never order any other kind of Margarita, of course! Because I am over 16.
It came to pass that one middle of the afternoon I was at Chez Jay’s, a very cool restaurant at the Santa Monica/Venice Beach border, with my two friends, killing time before flying back home. It was, if memory serves, the very day that Janet Jackson suffered her “wardrobe malfunction” and thus, the kitchen had been shut down in anticipation thereof, for very it is a fact well-known among the wise that cooks all have the Second Sight.
And it so happened that each of my friends ordered a diet Coke.
And I ordered, “A double Sauza Conmemorativo Margarita, on the rocks.”
And the waiter said, “At least you’re fun!”
You Are a Lime Margarita
Realistic and grounded, you have the energy to tackle any obstacle that stands in your way.
Hyper and driven, you despise lazy behavior of all kinds… especially lazy drunks too tired to dance!
Well, yesterday really wasNational Cleavage Day in South Africa, presumably the only podunk nation/state that Wonderbra could talk into this pulchritudinous publicity stunt. Which is not to say we look upon it as a cynically synthetic corporate holiday (although we do) but rather to say we think that Wonderbra is picking a nation that needs all the help it can get, seriously.
When was the last time you heard of a Playboy Bunny from South Africa? Come on, try. And have you eyeballed Winnie Mandela? The woman’s waist outmeasures her boobage by nearly two to one. I know middle-aged basement-dwelling geeks who have three cup sizes on her, and they’re men!
Speaking of which, it’s time to address the sexism inherent in a National Cleavage Day which includes only potential consumers of the Wonderbra. Surely we should, in the name of fairness, open it up to potential consumers of the Brossiere as well. And among those, there is one clear winner.
Yes, ladies and gentlemen and those of both genders who are less than ladylike or gentlemanly, the best chest in the world belongs to one person, and one person only, and that person does not use a Wonderbra.
It’s Hendrik Beune of Fearless City (among many other affiliations) taking his new chair for a spin. He’s a director of AHA Media, so naturally the universe conspired to provide him with a proper director’s chair. And naturally, being Hendrik, and living as he does on the Downtown Eastside, he decided to turn it the occasion into a spontaneous mobile performance art piece.
Raised, as I was, to learn the ways of the woods old-skool, telling direction with nothing more elaborate than a stick, tracking lynxes and bobcats, and finding fresh water aided by the smell of unseen ferns, I cast a skeptical eye on modern technology dependent on batteries, satellites, and whether or not you’ve renewed your license on that sorry-ass copy of Outlook on your computer back home.
Not to mention the three hour hike around the lake that was invisible to the GPS. Remember, when you’re using one of those things in Canada you’re rather in the position Columbus was in; ie, you have a pretty good idea more or less where A is, and B as well, but you don’t exactly know what you’ll encounter when you try to connect those two dots, because nobody’s done it yet. What will you encounter? Almost certainly things. Like lakes. And barbed wire. And lynxes and bobcats.
So, for me, I prefer the old-skool tools. After all, a cigar may not always be a cigar or a rock a rock, but a stick is pretty much more or less always a stick and even when it’s not, you can usually get it to hold still long enough to work. Cold-blooded things such as stick insects and other items which spring to mind are known to slow down, even to the point of immobility, in Arctic conditions.
Surprisingly, if the temperatures are cold enough, you can even get a bikini to hold still long enough to be put to practical use.
“Due to our proximity to the Magnetic North Pole, our compasses are currently going haywire, said navigator Ann Daniels. “The earth’s strong magnetic field on this part of the ocean means that the compass needle simply spins uselessly in its housing. As such, we’re currently relying on more traditional methods for day-to-day navigation, using the sun (for those few precious hours each day when it graces us with its presence), and using wind direction, as indicated by the panties…”
Polar Panties of Power!
If only Franklin had toted a pair of these along on his fatal expedition, perhaps things might have gone very differently. While Gizmodo says there is no word on whether the woman pictured above actually wears the windsock panties when they are not otherwise occupied, certain of the more broad-minded among us (and I refer, of course, to myself) are wondering whether or not there might be any Englishmen among the team.
Easily the most hotly-anticipated film of 2009, and potentially the most explosive spy thriller of all time, the tsunami of testosterone which is Quantum of Dynamite is the tentpole holding up the hopes of an entire industry. If it succeeds, it will take entertainment itself to a new level. If it fails, all of the major studios, who collectively have invested over three hundred quintillionbillion dollars in the extravagant production, will be sold to roving gangs of Uzbek pawnbrokers, to be broken up and sold for scrap in the bazaars of the former Silk Road breakaway republics (Sharmuzistan, Szatinia, Kraypistan, and Georgette).
We at the ol’ raincoaster blog have obtained a worldwide exclusive, procured at great personal cost (I know it was only one child, but everyone loves their eldest, don’t they?) an exclusive print of the fabled trailer for this monumental motion picture. Pour yourself a chocolate milk, shaken, not stirred, and settle down to watch the film that is to change the entertainment industry forever:
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raincoaster 