The deputy of WTF has been on tour.

Jesus Christ on a hatchback. Look at this shit here. Katherine Kalnes has fashioned Ryan Gosling into a fucking pancake. Whether this is a thumbs up or down is still debatable....

Next is this hauntingly disturbing piece of visual hand sanitizer by Benetton. Only attractive folk should be posted nationally snogging with grit. Not this sad Venezuelan sack.

Sometimes, when I m writing  a paper and need background noise and forget what is on T.V. I feel exactly like this poor Peruvian chowder head when I realize that fucking Teen Mom has been on for well over 1/2 an hour. Toys R Us has also aided in my identification with wanting to kick the eye out of some annoying fucktard in line at Wegmans who's Mother can't utilize a useful militant strategy to get Mommy and Daddy's "surprise" in line.

Whoa. Easy chief. What are ya on pigtail patrol? One day not only will you have your own flatiron, you'll realize that Insane Clown Posse does not understand you at all and that featuring a utensil drawer in the front of your grill will not win you any prizes with either sex.
Listen, we may be in an unstable economy, but this poor fuck is booking his seat on the next Greyhound just to be a sales associate at the new Hot Topic opening in Wabasha.

Wanderlust has set in.......

Ok, so I am still feeling like this, but I do not sound SO much like Jabba the Hut pleasuring himself.

 I was born with a travel itch but due to recent illnesses beyond my control, it has escalated to obsessive status; one can only watch so much Paranormal State and Travel Channel before if starts to get a little...

I would go here first....there is not enough time in a day to cover this ethereal secret.

Next up is South Africa, which hopefully will be a real possibility next year. Matt, my husband, and I are working on that little slice now. Their fucking textiles alone are enough to propel one over on pirate ridden seas in a drug cartel loaded vessel; fuck, I  just may. But the promise of little to no white people is also a deal sweetener.

Lastly, I would stalk around Venice; wearing Rodarte. (It's my fantasy and I AM wearing Rodarte in it.) If I need to delve further into Venice, please stop reading this and never come back. The promise of a South Beach Diet and your manic Tivoing of Housewives of NJ  has ensured that you will remain culturally devoid of any real life experience and has left you a lost cause which I am not capable of helping. Good day to you.

For the rest of you, today when your boss condescends to you because he is a puke pile piece of shit, has still never told anyone about the boy in gym who's knob he shined and enjoyed it but stayed in a 5 year marriage to make Daddy proud; know that your comfortability with your self is what is so unsettling to others and they will try to take it from you. Don't let them, they are a means to an end; you will never be in a permanent fetal position yet that is the only one they hold. 

"Resist much. Obey little."

Sickness has elevated me to Noah's Ark status...

So this is the overall theme for today. Thoroughly fucked and OVER this happiness invader. Onto visual validation of how every woman has felt, especially around these seasons translated through the brilliance of Eva Hesse. Eve Hesse's Spectres 1960 is one of the current exhibitions being shown at the Brooklyn Museum and if one finds them self in the business of performing self satisfying favors, indulge in one and go absorb her work.
On a heavier note, a dear friend has recently been the undeserving recipient of a horrific unveiling. My friend recently discovered that after years, 11 to be exact of faithful devotion to his wife, that she in fact has been seeking more intimate comforts out side of the marriage for a lengthy amount of time, coupled with the admission that she had not loved him since the second year they were together. All of this came to light after my friend had been battling with some of his own demons, massive amounts of money spent on said vampire  and was made to labor under the misapprehension that he was involved in a loving and caring relationship.
The only logic I can glean from this despicable situation brought on by a energy, time and real life whore is that self serving security found in varied dick tips will most certainly not provide the thing you are seeking to make you whole. One cannot replace or fill  a space that never existed. So to glean admiration from loose skin and old balls or possibly fit balls in this case (apparently it's a gym infused fling) would not only be futile but draw pity from the soul who searches this sort of attention out when said shell is well into mid life. Some buy a Ferrari, some have affairs. Moral? Don't get involved with a stripper that claims to be performing in order to satisfy a scholastic endeavor only to do nothing with finished product, be advised; if nothing changes, nothing changes. Keep your wits about you when a fake rack is showcasing affection towards you, it is most likely agenda ridden.

Death's Doorstep is getting Crowded....

It is day infinity that I have been feeling like this...
I would complain but I feel that would be an exercise of abuse in the way of this forum, so I'll shut the fuck instead and marvel at the genius of Gareth Pugh set to Fyodor Dostoevsky's Crime and Punishment. Let these awe striking, would severe off left pinky (don't want to give up too much love) in manner of Saw to own one of these get ups that Pugh inspires, even demands psychically, that every woman should wear.
Secretly in my own adult Muppet day fantasy, I walk in wearing the Darth inspired garb to my local Starbucks, tell them what I think of their Mocha Caramel Macchiato prices & false goal oriented agendas of the patrons who frequent their establishment; all while channeling grace and charm of Audrey Hepburn, throw $500,000 in the air in crisp new bills to the patrons; only to have to the bills snatched up by the 1%s turn into eel sloths hybrids that kill upon being held by someone wearing Gap, inevitably, the whole place will be devoured leaving me canonized and satisfied.
Being sick leaves one with ample time on their hands to muse and plot, FYI.

Sick as balls....

I have been deathly sick for a couple of days & could not be more bummed if you told me Bush had been elected to receive  a Lifetime Achievement award. So my outlet for now will be this here soap box. With Beiber's spawn on the way I don't know how I have found the time to do anything else (^%$#&#&!) be that as it may, whenever I m in a bad way, I find that the genius of Vivienne Westwood is always there to inspire & encompass my inner punk to fight mediocrity & the case today: a sinus infection that makes me sound like an Italian Yeti on the verge of suicide.

Osama you have been replaced.

Holy shit. Never has a smoke ridden eye conjured such visions of terror. Sure, there's the obvious: she isn't really famous for anything, blah, blah, blah. However, the fact that this family is still benefiting monetarily from Mac & Cheese consumers that hang every ambition on Mommy & Daddy's spent aspirations of golden retriever, 2 children; 1 boy, 1 girl marry a girl with the following names; Megan, Jenny, Rebecca and my favorite psycho social, Sarah is frightening. As a society not only are we becoming more tolerant of ignorance & all around horse shit, we are inviting it in to every available cranny. How depressing would it be to witness a 13 year old girl wearing what any of the Kardashian slags sport? Fuck me, I may as well begin shooting heroin....AGAIN! Say no to these fucktards and their sorted agenda for your future, your money and your esteem. Not for nothing, but when did cellulite start to sell? It hasn't, one simply has to have a my little pony voice accompanied by a witless and voluminous quaff coupled with a beach ball bum....