Five Things-The Boobs Edition: 4/16/14

1) I’m so glad misogyny is still a thing.

 

2) I went to this the other night. It was spectacular.

I love John Doe’s voice, so much so I told him afterwards at the merch table. He blushed and smiled. Said he liked my freckles. Bought a t-shirt from him. Met Dave Alvin too, made him laugh.

He sang this.

 

3) I’m thinkin’ that MAYBE they should make these machines a little less accessible to tots.

Nebraska toddler gets stuck inside ‘Bear Claw’ toy machine at bowling alley

(Via UPI)

“LINCOLN, Neb., April 16 (UPI) — A Nebraska 3-year-old who escaped from his mother’s Lincoln apartment was discovered at a nearby bowling alley, but he wasn’t interested in rolling 10 frames.

Kael Ireland was found inside the “Bear Claw” machine at Madsen’s Bowling & Billiards after he somehow wandered into the establishment and crawled up the game’s prize slot so he could play with the toys inside.”


The photo is priceless. The kid just looks so damn happy, so I says just leave him there. 

 

4) So, in India, public defecation is a huge problem. What, you say? Believe it or not, there aren’t enough toilets to service a billion people, so out-in-the-open-dumps are a thing.
Until now.

Indian officials and UNICEF are working hard at getting the message across to the world’s largest democracy that public pooping is kinda gross, not to mention completely unsanitary.

Enter the Poo2Loo program. Of course, there’s a vidya explaining why public-loaf-pinching is a bad thing.

 

5) I don’t see mahself getting sick of this song any time soon.

 

The Daily #Epicfail-Media Whore Style!

Way to go, NBC.

You deemed the Kardashian klan more important than acknowledging the 3,000+ victims killed in the worst terrorist attack on American soil. Shame on you. The other networks participated in the moment of silence at Ground Zero, along with the Whitehouse, NYPD, NYFD and other municipalities around the country.

Watch the interview here.

Oh, and both the Obama and Romney presidential campaigns decided to suspend their negative ads today. Wow, that’s mighty big of both of them. I can’t wait for the low-brow bickering to start again at midnight! *thrilled*

But, about NBC and their fuck-up. I know boobs are important to media prominence, but we’re talking about the Kardashians.

Wait, I saw what I did there–I’m referring to the female breast, not a dunce or a fool. Huh. Come to think of it, I AM talking about both types of boobs!

However, I digress.

Back to “The Today Show” and the Kardashians — the media whores who’ve contributed jack shit to this society except for giving permission for folks to strive for mediocrity.

And, I’m not just talking about the Kardashians here, *ahem*.

It’ll be interesting to see if the Kardashians have the klass to acknowledge the importance of remembering what happened on September 11, 2001.

Hmm..I wonder if they even know WHAT exactly happened on the horrible day. I highly doubt it.

The beauty of unemployment

Believe it or not, being unemployed has many advantages–at least that’s what I keep telling myself so I won’t throw myself off the end of Navy Pier whilst wearing ceeee-ment shoes. There are many things I don’t have to worry about doing on a daily, or even weekly, basis and I’m finding great comfort and joy in that revelation.

1) No daily shower. Unless I do Bikram of course. However, I don’t shower right away because I like to wander around in small, enclosed public spaces with horrible ventilation & opium den-esque lighting to let the common folk bathe in my aura and aroma. Since I’m quite the social butterfly and can extract an actual conversation from the meanest of souls, I make sure my breath is extra-stanky and my skin extra-ruddy. This is their punishment for any previous nefarious acts. Hey, that ‘thing you smell’ is what they get for being bullies, or Teabaggers or whatever.

2) No makeup. One of the great things about being blessed with decent skin is I don’t need to wear a pound of makeup when I leave the house. At this age, about 1/2 pound is sufficient since I don’t garner all that much attention from my fellow humans on any given day. If anyone does pay attention to me, it’s because the drag queen scared them, and they need to see what meh looks like in order to get on with their lives. I happen to like somewhat expensive makeup because I believe you get what you pay for. The cheap stuff just slides off my visage and isn’t worth it in the long run. The downside to applying makeup after a long hiatus is I have to re-learn how to put makeup on. Sometimes I look at my eyelash curler and am reminded of the time a roommate in college used one as a roach clip. This memory causes me to giggle, of course. But then I have to try to remember how to use the eyelash curler PROPERLY. That, my friends, takes some serious thought.

3) Braless–All day, everyday. Or until it really starts to hurt, or until my boobs are brushing against my knees whilst standing up straight. Kudos to Ms. Jenni Spinner for reminding me about the wonderful world of going sans bra. It truly is a magical experience until it’s time for my daily break dancing practice, then I gotta bundle the gals up.

4) Schedule-free zone. This is both good and bad. If I don’t have some sort of plan for the day, I’ll just sit on my ass and futz around on the computer and watch “Teen Mom”, or my new fave “Monster In-Laws.” Or, I watch amateur Bulgarian porn but even that gets frustrating after some time because the poor production value drives me NUTS. I mean, c’mon! It’s so cheap to make movies these days, you’d think these porn auteurs would put some actual thought into lighting, camera angles, editing and sound, but NOOO. They can’t be bothered. Why can’t anything good ever come out of any of the former-Eastern Bloc countries? It’s been–what–about 12 years since the fall of the Iron Curtain, correct? One would think that would be enough time for the denizens of those countries to take a tour of the rest of Europe in their Yugos and realize just how easy it is to make porn. Maybe they’re too busy mourning the death of Yakov Smirnoff’s career.

Wait…where was I? Right–not having to adhere to any type of schedule. The only thing I have to do each day is go to Bikram. It may not be much, but it gets me out of the house AND gets me my daily dosage of Vitamin K.

5) No wardrobe malfunction. When McCrabass ain’t gracing some newsroom with her presence, she’s dressed from head to toe in sweats–usually something from Target and my alma mater. The bigger and more unflattering the better. And big socks if it’s cold out. And some sort of beanie on my head–usually the one I bought at the Sundance Film Fest a few years ago. Who am I trying to impress? The missing link who lives across the street? My motto is, if it’s relatively clean and BO/peanut butter smell is faint, it’s my uniform for the day. It saves on wear and tear, and money on dry cleaning. Plus, I don’t need to buy new threads for work.

6) Agoraphobic by choice. As I’ve aged, I’ve come to the conclusion that the less interaction I have with the citizenry of this fine city, the better for both of us. Plus, this is a rotten time of year to be unemployed with all of the holiday crap being shoved down our throats by way of cheery window displays, garlands/sparkly stuff hanging from lamp posts, red and green crap everywhere and insipid holiday music. I don’t need the constant reminder of how I can’t afford gifts for family and friends because I don’t have a job, money or prospects. I’m succeeding beautifully at that task all by my lonesome, thankyouverymuch. It’s just best that I remain inside my apartment, keeping the couch down and watching movies on my eyelids.

What you see is what you get & then some

There’s something so magical about Coco.

Coco

Before you click away in utter disgust and decide to block my blog forever, maybe even report me for being a hack, a fraud OR worse–stooopid–please give me a chance. Who knows–you may even agree with me. If you do, you’ll be a better person for it.

I admire and like Coco because she doesn’t attempt to act smarter than she really is; she doesn’t pretend to be something she isn’t and is happy with who she is. Most important, she appears to not give a shit what others think of her. She’s a gutsy broad who puts it all out there and doesn’t seem to mind the negative press. Hey, she’s making a shitload of cash off of her look, is in what appears to be a happy marriage and cares about those around her. In my book, that’s huge. What do I admire about her the most? She’s not a skinny chick, is proud of it and celebrates her curves. How refreshing!

Coco’s a(n) (in)famous American woman who is comfortable in her own skin–a rare species here since we are trained from early on to despise ourselves for not being pretty, smart or thin enough. Or, for being too pretty, smart and thin. Those of us who dare attempt to break out of this hobbling, disgusting mold, are chastised and called selfish bitches. Hey, argue with me allll you want. Tell me I’m wrong with your so-called well-thought out arguments about how women have more power than ever before and I’ll listen quietly. Then, when you’re finished, I’ll hand you a stack of fashion pubs & suggest you take a gander at the photos and ads & hopefully you’ll see how all of the models are in dire need of a couple dozen Sliders–then try that lame-ass argument again.

The constant barrage of Biafra-esque thin women that grace the media, plus the multi-billion dollar diet & plastic surgery industries in this country, are constantly telling women we’re not good enough physically. Sure, we’ve made huge strides as women, but we’re still harshly judged by our looks over our intelligence and wit. If you don’t believe me, think back to how horrible folks were toward Hillary Clinton’s looks when she was running for President. Same with Sara Palin–yep, I said it. There was a lot of ridiculous attention paid to her looks–it even had me shaking my head because I noticed immediately that her room-temperature IQ was more dangerous and important than her appearance. Fortunately, anyone with a pulse realized that too–so we’re safe–for now.

Coco’s not like the Kardashians–who are desperately clawing their way up from the bottom of Crap Mountain to be taken seriously as something other than what they really are–fame whores. These sisters & Mama pimp would appear at the opening of Malaysian whore house if E! was in attendance. Sure, society is to blame for the Kardashian’s success–this culture celebrates mediocrity. How else would you explain Dane Cook, George W. Bush and the entire “Jersey Shore” cast?  But, I will give the K-Klan this much–good move on cashing in on your sibling’s sex tape. Who knew that having tape of your sister’s muff being munched on by a mustachioed gutter dick could prove so profitable?

I wonder what Camille Paglia thinks of Coco. No…. wait…nah…not really.

There is much to say about Coco and whether or not she’s good for us. Maybe I’ll write more about her later, maybe not. But I’ll leave you with what my pal Shannon M. said about this shot:

“That titty is way better looking than all of Janice Dickinson.”

AAAAANNNND SCENE.

On My Camel

Camel Vs. Camel

Life is filled with firsts. Your first period, your first erection, your first bra, the first time you cheat on a test, the first time you sleep with your college lit professor, the first time you get so drunk you pass out in Moe’s AMC Pacer and the first time you do Camel Pose without wanting to puke. Today, I experienced my first Camel without wanting to vomit on my rental mat. Oh, and it was my first erection EVER but that’s a story for another time.

For those of y’all who are unfamiliar with Camel, it’s this one. You’re probably thinking to yourself, “Ha! That doesn’t look too hard! Pfft! I can do that in my sleep after chugging cheap gin and eating Taquitos!” G’head. Give it a try, but when you do, don’t for get to breathe only through your nose, keep your ass-cheeks tight, push your hips and thighs forward throughout the entire posture, lift your chest up, relax your face and keep looking for the ground with your eyes. OH, and keep your eyes open otherwise you’ll get dizzy. Now, try to get out of the pose the same way you went into it: by moving your hands up your ass to your middle back one at a time without twisting around. Otherwise you’ll really hurt yourself. My camel even captured the attention of the teacher: She called my camel “strong and beautiful.”

Made my day.

So, why is this important? Anyone who practices yoga or does any type of exercise routine, or participates in a sport that requires using both your physical and mental being to work together, understands how important to one’s self-esteem an accomplishment like this it. This is a very difficult pose because it’s the biggest backbend in the series, and it has been known to cause one to puke. Also, photos of this pose are deceiving because it looks easier than it is. Once you start the pose, you quickly realize just how difficult it is to do–but that’s the challenge of Bikram or any yoga practice. It’s difficult but you do it anyway. You challenge yourself–your whole self, not just the physical.

That’s yoga. At least, that’s what yoga is to me.

This is a huge victory for me.

Now, if I’m able to do this again tomorrow, I’ll be even more surprised.

Who knows … maybe the dam is starting to break.

PS: Oh me oh me oh my. I wanna go.

A little post about nothing

I’m in a quandary about what to write about today. I asked a friend and he said “Boobs.” Of course he’d say that. He’s a guy. Oy. The thing is, what could I possibly say about boobs that anyone would find interesting? Yeah, I have ‘em. Big whup. Everyone has them, it’s just that some are more significant than others. This society is too boobage-obsessed as it is, so I’m not going to add to the breastess-cacophony.

So, it’s Mob Week on AMC. The same friend who told me that I should write about boobs also informed me of this mob marathon. And what film is on right now? Yep, you guessed it, “The Godfather,” with part two following immediately. If I happen upon either one of these films whilst channel surfing, I will watch it no matter where the story is. I used to teach parts of “The Godfather” when I taught film here in Chicago. My students were not aware of such things as parallel-editing, sound design (unless it’s over-the-top loud & annoying), story & character development and the lot. You see, many of them believe that Michael Bay is the end-all, be-all of movie making, so they tend to study every frame of the shit he makes. They feel the same way about Peter Jackson. I had to restrain myself from failing all of them right then and there. Michael Bay? Really? Peter Jackson is a’right I guess. I hated “King Kong” so much I wanted to stab myself with an Ebola infested needle halfway through it because I was too lazy to leave and thought that a painful death was the proper punishment for wasting 8 bucks on a ticket. Now I’m getting upset, so I must cease-and-desist the Michael Bay bitch session.

But, back to “The Godfather,” even though I love these two films, I also somewhat agree with this assessment.

Bikram is coming back to me after my hiatus. I didn’t feel like refunding my breakfast after yesterday’s class and my muscles felt all loosey-goosey. There must be some truth to that whole muscle memory theory folks are always yap-yapping about.

To continue on with the randomness of this post, here are a few tidbits I’ve come across during my time keeping the couch down.

Is this woman a criminal or a magnificent genius? I don’t see what the big deal is. So she included sexy time with her donuts. Big deal.


Isn’t it a titch late in the summer to be concerned about whether or not your bod is beach worthy
? If it isn’t already, I doubt it will be by summer’s end (which is just around the corner). Wait, maybe I should preface that by saying that my bod won’t be beach ready by, well, never.

File this under why didn’t I think of this? It’s pure genius. I’m in awe of the inventor because you know damn well EVERY living being would kill for a pair of these fine knickers. If you aren’t as thrilled about these as I am, then you ain’t livin’.

Is this even necessary? Discuss.

Before we continue, all spas and salons should be shut down if they play Enya. Even the ones who used to play her music back in the day when it was popular.

This list made me giggle. Green Day? Really? I dig their music a lot but aren’t they just The Clash 2.0? Glad to see Bad Brains on the list though.

And, finally, I miss headline writing.

Doctor My Eyes

This is me, in about a month.

I’m getting old.

Yes. Old. Ancient. Elderly.

Soon, I’ll be an old fart with lots of thick, dark hair on my chin and along my jawline. Soon, I’ll be drawing in my eyebrows and having birthday parties for my cats. Soon, I’ll start growing things in the dirt a la Ouiser, and making wise-ass comments about everyone and everyth–wait a sec. I already do that.

I'm pleasant, dammit!

What event landed me at this conclusion? Today, it finally hit me that I need glasses. As I was moseying across Michigan Avenue toward the Cave to grab some lunch, I could barely make out the label on my gin bottle I was swigging from. I wasn’t sure if it was the 7-11 brand or the stuff I made in my bathtub. That’s a problem. Now, a few years ago, I had no problem differentiating between my homemade gin and the top-shelf stuff from 7-11. Life was good. ‘Twas a simpler time. I could spot the difference between a regular Oreo and a Double Stuf at ten paces. I didn’t have to squint like Mr. Magoo to drive down the street.

But, when a gal can’t read her scribbles on her fancy, computer-generated label on her musty gin bottle or can’t tell the difference between fake and real boobs in her fave porno, it’s time to face the enemy and get specs.

I just felt the Earth shift on its axis.

Now, where is that truss catalog?