Jesus fucking Christ, lay off the plastic surgery.
UPDATE: This documentary is actually good. My brother says I’m a slave to the man. But whatevs, she’s sweet.
UPDATE 2: Wait what? This is brought to me commercial free but sponsored by Britney’s various fragrances? Fuck, I AM a slave to the man. Sigh. Whatever, she’s still sweet.
Letters to god from children. Fake or real, I don’t care, they are so damn cute. See more here.
Some random dude just emailed me describing himself as a “numerical genious.” I wrote back suggesting that he stick to numbers.
on WFMU, 91.1 in the NYC area or live and archived at WFMU.org online. The topic is Who deserves a bailout? Call in with your suggestions at 201 209 9368.
By the one and only drned:
just finished this. should be going up sometime in january, but its on my blog RIGHT NOW. enjoy.
Lets just get this over with.
I woke up this morning; my liver had left a note on the pillow next to me. It read “Dear Ned. Youre a fucking asshole. You put me through too much shit. Last night was the final straw. Signed, Your Liver”. This is a true story and actually happened.
So it got me thinking; whats the best cure for a fucking hangover?
MARIJUANA: Ah, the old standby. Not only does it cure everything ever (even AIDS), but it makes you act stupid. I heard a guy once say that ‘THC’ stood for ‘The Hangover Cure’ and I thought “that man is suprisingly witty”. So after a night of bourbon I decided to do nothing else but smoke pot to cure a hangover.
What followed was not so much a ‘cure’ as it was me playing Super Mario World for about three hours straight. I didn’t as much notice the symptoms were gone as i more or less had completely forgotten the symptoms, or even the fact that I was writing this very article. Infact, only after did I order thai food did I even remember that I had a hangover. It was incredible. So as a hangover cure I give this a 9 out of 10.
MORE ALCOHOL: What the fuck? What the fuck are you crazy? Drink MORE? Fuck you. No, really, me, fuck you. Fuck. You.
I decided to drink shots of vodka until my hangover cleared up. Ok: imagine the worst idea you’ve ever had, and multiply it be 1000. Now take that idea and pee on it. This whole scenario only led to an encounter with a poor Jehovah’s Witness who must have thought I was the devil himself… that poor bastard. Before I threw up in the kitchen sink I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I looked like Jack Nicholson’s chin.
GREASY FOOD AND CHILDRENS RECORDS: The whole idea behind this is that a couple of years ago after a particularly nasty break-up I lived in a dank, dreary basement apartment across the street from a daycare (I know. Very John Wayne Gacy of me, right?). I also worked in a bar at that time too, and for a good month I’d stay up until the morning drinking with my Irish Catholic manager and then come home. Due to some unusual twist of fate my window funneled every fucking sound coming from that fucking day-care, so after maybe 4 hours of sleep I was awakened by the sounds of The Fucking Bananas In Pajamas or some other heinous shit. It was terrible. It was worse than 9/11 and Princess Diana combined.
Ultimatley I’d eat whatever was in the fridge. Because I was broke and because I’d just gotten out of a relationship with Satan Herself this usually meant either mustard or pizza. I decided to give this a shot again. I spent five hard earned dollars of my own on a used Raffi cd, and another five on a large pepperoni pizza.
After 3 slices I decided to smoke some pot; my stomach wasn’t adjusting well to the tomato sauce. I passed out; Raffi blaring on the stereo on repeat. A bad idea. 4/10
ABSOLUTELY NOTHING: This was the worst idea of all. I ended up staring out the window listening to sad bastard music. I did a lot of staring. Really fucking bad idea. 1/10
CHURCH: No, really. I know you are probably sitting there reading this thinking “Fuck you. I am not going to church”. Due to the fact that I am a brilliant journalist that is willing to try anything to get the story I came down to this on the list and decided to bite the bullet and do it. Amazingly I had a lot of fun. I was so placid and mallable that I started getting into it. Every song sounded like Coldplay - who I hate - but when you’re in a White Person Church you kind of have to go with the flow. I mean, hey, the whole thing about being hungover is hating it / yourself, and church at least made me forget about it for 3 hours. Also, there were free coffee and donuts, and afterwards there was an X-Box battle. I beat some fucking pansy 11 year old in a bad marigold sweater at Rock Band. He tried to high-five me. I refused to high five him back. What a dick. 6/10
CHURCH (ON MARIJUANA): This is the best. I smoked a TON of pot and wore my aviators the entire time, gorging myself on the free donuts. Was I even at a church? I don’t remember. It was awesome. It was epic. I think I cried at one point. I hugged somebody and meant it. I can’t even remember why. 10/10.
Por todo. Feliz Sans Giving!
I don’t know what I did, maybe it was the suitcase down the stairs or something, but I can’t move my neck and it’s the most pain I’ve ever felt. Looks like Thanksgiving is going to be filled with wine and percocet.
In other news, this is the most beautiful day in Miami that I have ever seen.
For the upcoming issue of Vogue, photographer Terry Richardson was commissioned to create a fourteen month calendar. The pin-up style feature is probably a little more tame then conventional Richardson pieces given the wide scale nature of Vogue magazine. The December/January issue of Vogue will hit stores November 28th. See the rest of the photos here. (via Hypebeast)