What's Not to Like About This?

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Chivalry Is Dead

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The President Polls Well With Main Street

Ecstasy pills created in His likeness were confiscated in Texas. To be fair, the dealer is thought to be bipartisan; he was also delivering capsules shaped like Homer Simpson and various smurfs.
Link to story.... HERE!

"This Party's Over" -- Mace Windu

The So Like Estroplex is hunkering down and preparing for tomorrow's arctic weather conditions (low 30s). By now you've heard Austin's fate: we will be covered in snow like the Echo Base of Hoth. Since no Jedi wants to be left out in the cold, we recommend you purchase our new, favorite slumber gear:


Get it at Thinkgeek.com

What We've Learned from the New Plan B Commercial

It's really just the first 25 seconds of this commercial that make you wonder. The rest is just a "life goes on" montage of unrelated images.


So, uh, what happened last night, right ladies?
Yep, we understand that their birth control failed...but, where did all of their suitors go? You might also notice that they're only sleeping on "their side" of the beds, meaning they didn't realize that Mr. Fly By Night had sublimated until they woke up. Hence the "oh shit, why don't I ever learn" forehead clutch, repeated five times -- like a walk of shame fun house mirror.

Looks like it's breakfast tacos for uno, again.

The So Like Beehive is Buzzing

So Like Yeah just received a stack of Sassy magazines from a generous benefactor. It shot us back to an era of zines, mom jeans, Love’s Baby Soft, and Channel One (We’re lookin’ at YOU Anderson Cooper!). Covers featured headlines like “Tormented boys: Are they predators or prey?” Finding a favorite article so far is tough, but here’s where we’re at.


Kind Robot: Gotta be “Star Trek Conventions: Nerd Magnets or Intellectual Summits?” Narration is handled by two homegirls debating which version (Original or The Next Generation) is superior. Their goal: Live out their Trekkie fandom and observe what they expect to be an undoubtable dudefest. The lesson learned? Don’t underestimate your dweeby sisters. The event was packed with… 14-year-old girls. Wearing pointy ears. Talkin’ science. Geeking out.
It was adorbs.

Sweaty Updo: The “Stuff You Wrote” pages feature some pretty amazing(ly) bad poetry, the kind birthed from the freshly stoned, still malleable mind of a 13 to 18-year- old girl, sitting in her in bedroom in suburban Florida, dying her hair with Kool Aid and wearing oversized Soundgarden t-shirts with overalls. I’m not saying that was me, but whatever, it was 1995 and it was just some slam poetry, ok?

“Why do I feel like I’m living in a great game of pin the tail on the donkey in a place where everyone is blinded by ideals and misguided by society.” – Jennifer, Wappingers Falls, NY

Preach on, Jennifer. Or is that you, Alanis Morissette?

I’ve also got to quote the answer J Mascis gave in a “Dear Boy” column, about whether or not guys like big or small butts: “Whatever it is, just get into it.”

Sadly, the Tribe perfume flaps have lost their scent.

Johnny 5 is Alive

It’s been six years since Earth’s most famous robots unfolded themselves from their pod and rolled out on Mars. We started each morning with Spirit and Opportunity, giddy with anticipation of new discoveries as updates piped through the radio, interwebs, and newspapers. Dorky NASA scientists blasted inspirational songs like “Wheels in the Sky Keep on Turnin’” to cheer them on to victory.
Now our longest serving astronauts have fallen to the wayside. As hope for liquid water evaporated, so did funding and enthusiasm. Now Spirit is stranded in a sulfate sinkhole; if he cannot free himself from these elemental shackles soon, his long-distance handlers will be forced to cut the circuit-laden umbilical cord. Spirit will then retire in Troy, his Martian tomb, while his brother, Opportunity, weeps oily tears.
What Spirit needs is some motivation. We need to bring back the morning anthems -- and who better to do it than Captured! By Robots? Currently energizing the masses, both hardwired and au natural, Jbot and his soldered soldiers would be the perfect band to get our rickety rover out of his death pit. NASA, I hope you’re listening and sending this message up to the heavens.