Serenata Guest House Bed. Entirely Viggo-worthy

Serenata Guest House Bed. Entirely Viggo-worthy

Now, you may not know this about me. I don’t know what you know about me, other than, you know, the obvious: has tentacles, worships Cthulhu, lives in dungeon, keeps human slaves (remember the Versace Twins?), enjoys torturing Jezebel readers and cancer fakers. Everybody knows that stuff.

But what you may not know is just exactly what kind of a housekeeper I am.

Let me put it this way: while nobody has actually fainted, several people have screamed. The Christmas wreath is still on my front door, quietly gathering dust  just as it has been since Christmas 2005. At least I finally took the tree down, and any day now I may wash some dishes. You never know.

I hate housework. You make the beds, you wash the dishes, and six months later you have to start all over again.
Joan Rivers

In any case, I have been known to make my bed up with cotton saris when all my sheets are in the laundry, which does make for a colourful little nest if not exactly (as I found out one warm and sweaty night) colourfast. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, it is entirely possible to go to bed stone cold sober and wake up paisley.

So, you can imagine that my apartment is not fit for company more often than perhaps once a millennium and that shortly before I move in. Indeed, the squalor is such that even in my daydreams my fantasy lovers and I always go back to their place (and let me just say that Steve Jobs has a lovely houseboat in an isolated cove about a ten minute walk and short flight of ancient stone steps from my house…) but where was I? Right, bitching about my own housekeeping on the blog instead of, you know, keeping house. Well, I keep it; I just keep it in squalor, that’s all.

In any case, however it may be, verily it was said unto them, that last month when I was up in Penticton speaking at the EatDrinkTweet social media for winemakers conference (two words, people: GOODY BAG!) the lovely and fragrant Allison Markin arranged for me to stay at the Serenata Guesthouse, and finally finally I slept in a bed that was suitable for my dream lovers. Silk and cotton with a thread count higher than I can count (without taking off my shoes, that is), with bolsters and pillows and shams and actuals and feathers in everything. I could easily have stayed there the entire weekend, particularly because I stayed up till 4am every night and as I may have mentioned, there was wine involved.

And then I got my friend Rebecca Coleman to immortalize it in the above, so that I can refresh my memory when I imagine myself taking my dream lovers home in the future. It’s so important to furnish one’s imagination well, don’t you think?

Interpersonal Communications for White Girls

I HAVE to try this. I wonder if I could get the bus all to myself with this.

“Just throw him The Face for awhile!”

Now, on the off chance that you’re short of inspiration for The Face, you can click over the jump and read all of today’s most skeeve-inducing gossip links.

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It’s a MAN, Baby!

So, thanks to TheIanFox, I found this marvelous site that analyzes websites and blogs and draws (a binary) conclusion on the gender of the author. And guess what?

It's a man, baby!
It’s a man, baby! Or maybe just a skinny emo lesbian

We guess is written by a man(55%), however it’s quite gender neutral.

Which is the only neutral thing about this blog, believe me.

The Julian Assange Action Figure

Julian Assange Action Figure

Julian Assange Action Figure

Fangirl alert: Julian Assange IN AN INDIANA JONES OUTFIT!!!

I’ll wait while you pick yourself up off the floor.

And go wash your hands.

For extra-serious fangirlism, for $60 you can buy just the head and attach it to “your own 12 inch action figurine”. Or whatever you may have handy.

I’d be the filling in a Steve Jobs/Jeff Goldblum sandwich (Lolebrity)

The Lord of the Kingdom of the Undead does not approve of this floozy (Ayyyy)

Roundup of news from Japan (raincoaster)

Matthew McConaughey is turning into a greyhound before our eyes (AgentBedhead)

Joan Jett is better than RedBull (BusyBeeBlogger)

Olivia Wilde thinks she can upgrade from an Italian prince (CelebDirtyLaundry)

She looks like Crispin Glover in an Edith Prickley costume (CelebritySmack)

Lindsay Lohan will stop at nothing (CelebrityVIPLounge)

Charlie Sheen, Celebrity Chef? (DailyStab)

Disney is REALLY scraping the bottom of the barrel (EarSucker)

They may be immortal, but they’re still not taking any chances (FitFabCeleb)

Scary clownceleb faces (GirlsTalkinSmack)

Celebrities care! Or at least fake it plausibly! (HaveUHeard)

The latest in celebrity injustices (HollywoodHiccups)

Tony Dunzo (INeedMyFix)

Justin Timberlake has a new plus one (MathewGuiver)

Martha Stewart is a surrogramma (TheSkinny)



Yo Bro, check out this No Fro Ho

The No Fro Yo Bro. What a Ho, No?

The No Fro Yo Bro. What a Ho, No?


David Davis possesses only one name, really, and really only half a haircut, since halfway through it he decided to pick up some scissors and stab a passerby in the back. Then, instead of settling down and letting the barber finish, he ran out without so much as tipping. WHAT kind of kids are we raising nowadays?

Well, that’s when the police were tipped off that there was a human before-and-after picture running around the neighborhood, and that they should pick him up.

David Davis, of Cedar Hill Avenue, New Haven, was arrested shortly after the incident when Stamford patrol officers and a police dog found him in a nearby Henry Street apartment. Officers took him into custody when they initially found he was wanted on a warrant for failing to appear in court and later charged him in the stabbing after an investigation, Stamford Police Capt. Richard Conklin said.

We are, of course, far more concerned with the crime against aesthetics than that against the unnamed stabbing victim. But enough of what we think: what do you think?