This one comes to us from Michael Usinger of the Georgia Straight:
Who would bring a toddler to Virgin Fest?
By Mike UsingerJust a question–who drags a toddler to these things?
The answer is obvious: ask any Aztec. You can’t have a virgin festival without a single virgin! It’s probably a City of Vancouver licensing requirement.
This is a Blogathon post. Don’t just sit there, SPONSOR ME!
I could swear I’ve blogged this video before, but perhaps not. By this point in Blogathon, I’m doing a LOT of swearing, as you can imagine. Nearly halfway through and I’m four posts short. Time for some quickie YouTubes, methinks.
This one happens to be one of the most popular things on Twitter; every damn time I post it I get 300 new Followers, for reasons which will become obvious about the time Mylene Farmer here starts undoing the garter belt. Enjoy, and know that you can enjoy with a clear conscience, Farmer being somewhat renowned as a post-postfeminist in good standing (for details of which, click on her name and watch that video, Fuck them All).
Love is nothing/ Mylene Farmer
Obsessed with the worst
And not very verbose
The least of my sighs
Turn metaphysical
I have in my heaven
Tons of stars
Hanging on my wings
And down falls the angel GabrielObsessed with the worst
A little too physical
The desire to quiver
Is pharaonic
Fed up with asceticism
My life is wrapped in darkness
For me without the tongue
Wihtout sex I get weakLove is nothing
When it’s politically correct
You like one another
You don’t even know when you hurt them
Love is nothing
When everything is sexually correct
You get bored
You yell for it to stop
Life is nothing
When it’s lukewarm
It consumes itself and shakes your blood
In cigarette ashes
Life is good
It’s made of honey
When it’s acid with dynamite
Those who love me, follow meObsessed with the worst
And not very verbose
The least of my sighs
Turn metaphysical
I have in my head
Tons of pirouettes
The leap of the angel
Doesn’t seem strange to meObsessed with the worst
And not very verbose
To share my laughs
Rather plutonic
I have in my sphere
A greenhouse effect
My blood’s boiling
I’m seething about everything
This is a Blogathon post. Don’t just sit there, SPONSOR ME!
Have you ever wondered (and if so, were you sober enough to remember it the next morning) what the James Bond movies would be like if they starred, instead of Connery, Brosnan, et al hunkish cohorts, someone whose appeal was not simply the way they fill out a debonair DJ? Someone more cerebral…someone whose appeal is that romantic touchstone, “He makes me laugh”?
Someone like Abbott and Costello?
No, huh? Oh, FINE, here then. Don’t say I never did nuthin’ for ya.
This is a Blogathon post. Don’t just sit there, SPONSOR ME!
Yea though I walk through the valley of mashups, I shall fear no dissonance, for I have read the raincoaster blog, and I’ve seen EVERYTHING now.
Right?
Presenting, Miss Hedda Lettuce, with the greatest cover (ever so slightly adapted) of Lady Gaga’s Pokerface:
BotoxFace
via Irina Slutsky of GeekEntertainmentTV
Still not had enough? How about Kurt Cobain singing backup for…well, just watch:
via Mashable
You knew William Shatner was a living god.
Sure you did. You read my last post, didn’t you?
But did you know that William Shatner was a rapaciously raptastic rapscallion who can bring out da funk even in someone as WASPy as Conan O’Brian?
Well, now you do.
raincoaster 