Archive for August, 2009


File Under: You’re Doin’ It Wrong

First things first, please click here for a larger view.

I’m no porn casting expert but something tells me this is NOT the way to go about recruiting talent. I mean unless you really, really want to deal with screening calls from hella crackheads/meth-heads/generally homeless or otherwise disgusting desperate women. There is no way that this method of recruiting is going to work out well. But maybe that’s the intention? The plot for this film is bonkers. Power Rangers meets Out Of This World? WTF? People are into some really, really wierd shit these days. Call me old fashioned but I all need from porn is some tits, a big dick or two and some fucking. You can keep the power crystals, alien fathers and helmeted leagues of psychologically damaged teens with split tounges.

Speaking of fucking, you know whats really annoying?

Uppity Pregnant Bitches

You know the type, women who act like they are the first woman to ever get pregnant and carry a child. From the moment they find out they are pregnant to the instant that little fucker pops out, all that bitch talks about is “the beauty of giving life.” She can’t stop talking about what a wonder the human body is and how connected she feels to the universe. God help you if you try to initiate a conversation that doesn’t revolve around her pending birth, her bloated figure or how she’s feeling about any of the related issues. 95% of these women insist on having blogs or galleries or email newsletters so that they can “share” their experience. Guess what? I don’t give a fuck. Congratulations, you’re pregnant. Good luck. I hope that all works out well for you. I don’t need to hear about your last sonogram or why you are going to use a mid-wife or how wonderful the whole process is. Bitches have been getting pregnant for millions and millions of years. You are not the chosen one. Same shit happens to every single lady. You get knocked up, you may or may not start puking on the daily, you go to the doctor, you start getting fatter over the course of 9months and every month you get to do less and less shit normal people get to do. Then one day you feel like someone stabbed you in the uterus and then some hours/days later a tiny screaming poop machine arrives to fuck up your life forever. See? Now who needs an entire blog for that? We need to stop pandering to these uppity hoes. I’m tired of acting like it’s so goddamn special. You know what’s special? Not getting knocked up. I can do anything I want including but not limited to smoking hella weed, getting massages, eating sushi, drinking as often and as much as I like, see my feet, wear pants that button, ride roller coasters, sit in a booth at a restaraunt, carry heavy shit, wear ALL my shoes…I think you see my point.

Friends, can I ask you a question?

What’s so wrong with pants? Like real pants. Ones made from actual fabric with warp and weft, ones with french seams and waistbands with buttons and/or zipper closures on the front?

Bitches need to start wearing pants again. For reals. I shouldn’t have to ask myself several times a day, “does she have shorts on under that?”

And for the record, despite what Katie Perry and Lady Gaga think – hot pants, rompers, leotards ARE not a suitable alternative to pants. If you are on stage performing wear that shit. That’s fine. But on the street? Get some pants.

In closing, I’d like to leave you with 3 reminders why leggings/tights are NOT pants.*

*all three of these awesome reminders came from Stop N Reflect – a blog dedicated to the fashion attrocities of NYC.

File Under: You Don’t Need THAT Much Soap.

1. Only one of these bottles is filled with an actual beverage intended for consumption.

2.  The gentleman using these three laundry related substances had absolutely NO concept of how much substance to use. He did 2 loads of laundry. He used ALL of the blue one, ALL of the purple one and HALF of the aqua blue one.

3. Those are 16, 20 and 32 oz bottles respectively. That means dude used roughly 26oz of laundry related liquid for each load. 26 FUCKING OUNCES OF SOAP PER LOAD. W…T…F. No wonder the machines fucking break all the time and smell like Fabuloso Fantastico.

4. For the record you only need about 1 – 4.5 oz of soap per load. Seriously people, less is more.

This is a balloon shaped like a word bubble. Shit like this fills me with rage. Why the fuck is plastic being wasted on something this inane? Do we really NEED balloons with bullshit phrases like “Is it Friday yet?” This is the kind of corny shit that I never, ever thought I would cross paths with. Now that I am a corporate boob, I’m threatened with this shit on the regular. God help the coworker who makes a bad judgement call and brings this to my cubicle.

And the shittiest tacos in San Francisco award goes to … Publico Urban Taqueria. I knew it was all bad as soon as I saw the word “urban” shoehorned into the title. But, I tried them anyway.  This picture was taken right before I threw them away. Yes, in the trash. Never, ever, ever in my life have I thrown a taco away. I’m Mexican and I’m a fat lady so you do the math. Anyhoo, the one on the left claimed to be carne asada, on the right claimed to be al pastor. I can’t even confirm that the pastor was actual pork. The meat was so overcooked and bland. All I can say is…Worst. Tacos. Ever. Do NOT eat here. Even white people deserve better tacos than this.

Shitty After Work Bars: This photo pretty much represents everything I hate about happy hour.  After work bros with collared shirts drinking beers talking about which chicks at work are “bangable” or just trading stories from college about “awesome parties” they used to throw. Closeted gays getting too drunk then “freaking” inanimate objects like staircase railings while “It Takes Two” plays in the background and their desperately lonely female coworkers encourage him yelling “You Go Boy” or something equally dated and obnoxious. There is always a huddle of single ladies getting way too drunk on Apple Martinis or whatever other sweet as fuck concoction the bar boasts as a special talking about the office “bitch” while throwing eyes to the bros across the room hoping that they will get drunk enough to “make a bad decision”. It’s all just miserable.  That’s why I can’t wait to fuck happy hour in the ass this Friday at Butter.

Now, listen up you beautiful bitches, because I’m about to drop some truth on you.

We’ve got a problem America……Steve Wonder’s dreads.

Exhibit A:

I LOVE me some Stevie Wonder. The man is a legend. Which is why I was ALARMED when I saw the sad state of his hairline at the MJ memorial. This cannot go on any longer. Someone needs to sit down with Stevie and let him know what’s happening up there. If Stevie had a clear understanding of what he looks like, I feel confident that he would no longer rock the dreads. He deserves a dignified, respectful look. This shit isn’t working. So readers, I ask you to do your part. Reach out to Stevie, let him know he deserves better.

File Under: WTF Is This Bitch Wearing?

Dolly Parton called she want’s her sequined & fringed bolero jacket back. Photo taken at roughly 12:15pm on a Thursday afternoon. Sequins are not for day time people. When will they learn God? When?

Your hate in pictures.

My new favorite Hater’s Tool is the Big Words App. As evidenced by this screencap, it allows users to type short messages which your phone can display in larger letters. It’s handy when in loud places or when you want to share some hate on the low. Or just put someone on blast. PS. If you are going out to eat at a fancy restaurant you should avoid bathing in Acqua di Gio. I want to smell my food NOT your Italian douchery.

WTF kind of sign is this? There are so many things wrong with this sign. I think a list is in order.

1. Mexicans do not cook in sombreros and rebosos. Sombreros are for Mariachi and drunk Mexicans napping under trees. Rebosos are for grandmothers and white girls studying Latin American history.

2. Mexican mustaches come in all shapes and sizes now. That handlebar joint was played out by bikers in the ’70s.

3. I’m not sure if this sign is inferring that they don’t hire Mexicans or announcing that they pay their Mexicans decent “American” wages.

4. Ironically Rice to Riches (where this photo was shot) was staffed almost entirely by women with heavy Eastern block accents.

Fake Pigeon-toed Hipster Hoes:

This one goes out to the homie Amir. Last time he was in the Bay we talked mad shit about how all the bitches in NYC love to stand around like this on street corners. Pigeon-toed stance is wack. It’s not demure or charming. It just makes you look bow-legged. Word on the street is dudes fucking hate it. So gather up all your Indie Butt girlfriends and let them know.

If the Night Stalker and the Unabomber had a baby it would look like this dude and evidently he would enjoy wathing DVDs of his latest kills during his subway commute.

File Under “Just Like Us” – Midevil Goth Vampires enjoy street fairs and iced coffee. Who knew?

Tara, I’ve missed you. So, so, so good to see you out and about. You’ve come a long way since the “nightmare”.  One piece of advise, next time you head out for snacks, put on some pants.