Friday, May 22, 2009

bitch is on the big screen

eat it up



now you take that to the bank and cash it

xo
b.a.

Sunday, May 17, 2009

only 10 paltry minutes of your life

is all that is required to indulge in this newfound meaning for life.
especially starting at 4 minutes.

Thursday, May 14, 2009

don't let this happen to you


who needs therapy when you can't show emotion on your face anyway?



alright, boys. it's time we had a little heart-to-heart. i'd say 'head-to-head,' but not everybody's into docking (or uncut, for that matter). anywho--it's about shorts. length, to be specific. i know the whole appeal of hipsters wearing shorts with, frankly, embarrassing revelation of thigh made it ok for the rest of the city, and therefore the world, to adopt such a trend, but come on, people. who follows crowds anymore? did rent make you want to go contract AIDS and shoot up?

so why am i all hatin? honestly, look at boys in too-short shorts. they don't look right. their legs are all knobby and body hair gets all weird on the upper thighs, like little bald spots and stuff. a coworker argued, "well what if they're like, athletic-looking?" to which i replied, "if you're running a marathon, fine. but would you wear hot pink-piped biker shorts to the met ball? don't thiiink so."
and what's worse than too-short shorts is when they're paired with saddle shoes, like some five year-old kid in a laura ingalls fucking wilder-based movie. i'm all about taking measures to preserve youth (i mean, ALL ABOUT) but dressing like a five year old when you've got twenty years on it makes you look like a shithead, and there's nothing cool about that. i'd make fun of you, and i wouldn't laugh and conclude my scrutiny with the perfunctory 'just kidding' hug.
yeah, dress in the aforementioned mess and you'll probably get your picture taken during fashion week, but remember one important fact--more people were laughing at bjork than with her.

like the FDA's pharmacopoeia controls the distribution and formation of drugs to protect humankind from harm, there should be some sort of fashionable restraint instituted to prevent those who prefer the form and function of shorts from looking like assholes.
this commercial has gone entirely too far, giving the world permission it should never have received. like a loaded gun.


i'm out, bitches.
xo
b.a.

p.s. i'm bringing this shit to video soon, ya heard.

Saturday, May 09, 2009

if wishes came true

don't threaten me with a good time...



it would seem, by the lovely pic i took of the hudson river this morning from the flawless vista 145th street provides, that prayers have been answered and new jersey is, in fact, disappearing, fading into the viscous mire floating above a river so polluted it could spawn three-eyed fish similar to that on the simpsons.


i think to dump anything not needed by humans into a river is one of the most audacious activities a human can complete. water that flows, and has flowed, for millions of years (save for the thousands it froze during the ice age), between grassy banks of land does not, in fact, resemble a garbage can. a wastepaper basket. a trash can. a place for refuse.


so why then is it so outwardly opportunistic to receive all sorts of materials humans refuse to use, garbage, debris, discarded ephemera, let alone highly toxic industrial waste? what if we never polluted in the first place? sure, thousands would have drowned in the undercurrents pursuing a splashy day of aquatic fun in the sun, but their deaths would at least have been attributed to natural forces, not high toxicity levels of polychlorinated biphenyls.

and that, my friends, is what a hungover weekend rant looks like.

Friday, May 08, 2009

my fave thing of the week



check this out, seriously, and comment something. kiefer headbutting jack. if you need last names, you should have clicked on this ages ago.
I CAN'T!!!
I CAN'T!!!
I CAN'T!!!

Friday, May 01, 2009

it's rantin' men

"if you want to be taken seriously, you need serious hair." -melanie griffith in 'working girl'

you know the swine flu hullaballoo is out of control when your mother actually texts you expressing concern that you'll contract the mythical ailment merely by living in the locale of the nyc. so needless to say, i'm sick of hearing about it. and when robin roberts corrected herself for shaking matthew fox's hand after interviewing him on 'good morning america' on tuesday, it dawned on me just how sick i was of hearing about it.
but i don't think we should instantly just forget about it--i mean, i may be sick of it, but people are getting sick from it, and some are even dying. faced with the inevitability of its existence i wonder why we always give pandemics such ugly names. as with any bleak topic of gossip, americans love to hear themselves say such buzzwords over and over. past hot-topics-on-the-tongue have included SARS, anthrax, nine-eleven, ground-zero, bird flu, and even salmonella, which made its merry way from tomatoes to jalapeno peppers to peanut butter factories, all while keeping its post on the news and tongues of us overweight americans. so just imagine if we were to give it, and any subsequent diseases that break out, fancier, more pleasant names, and i'm not talking about political correctness. who says the name has to relate at all to the disease itself, or its cause? we all know it's going to be bad anyway--it's a pestilence, for goodness' sake. what if we called it the 'tulip flu,' or 'dancing flu?' they had the right idea with scarlet fever, that's for sure. it makes me think of lush, crimson velvet drapes, or scarlet o'hara from gone with the wind, not scabby rashes and swollen tongues. and that makes the world a little bit better.

NEXT RANT


big [ed note: grown up] girls who sit on their man's laps. honey, you're 34. and a big girl. big in many ways. do you think sitting on your boyfriend's lap makes you look cute? do you think it feels good for him? do you think passersby will think, "aw, they look so cute sitting like that,"? with so much 'no' floating around, you should know better. and from the looks of it, your boyfriend doesn't lack the cushion for the pushin' but that doesn't mean he's your jennifer convertible. get the fuck off and act your age.
girls who do this kill me, they really do. they're the type to own clothing and jewelry adorned with such middle-american colloquialisms as, "daddy's girl," "princess," and, my favorite, "spoiled rotten." yeah, something's rotten.


NEXT


gisele as the face of...sigh...true religion. i mean, what happened to, you know, other girls? other models? gisele has become the face of absurd ubiquity--she's everywhere, and while she may own the new billion dollar-face, it always looks the same (save for her dior ads, which chameleonically can transform susan boyle into doutzen kroes...or maybe lily allen).
what's the point of having models and an industry devoted to them if they just end up being the same person?

AND LASTLY


there is so much wrong with the subject of this photo, i don't even know where to begin. again, we have grown women acting like young girls, sitting on their boyfriends' laps and now wearing jelly shoes. shoes made of sparkly plastic. whimsical webbed footwear meant to go no further than 18 months of age, before actual walking occurs. jellies are cute when they're three inches long, not a size 10. like drugs or carcinogens, just because they're manufactured doesn't mean you have to buy then.
i'm out.
xo
b.a.