It Burns Me Eyes!

Yes, I know. Your lady part is a jewel to be worshiped. You must hide it from griffins because the fortune is so valuable. You live in fear of panty raids from treasure-plundering pirates.
I get it. It’s “all that.”

Isn’t it a shame that not everyone knows this? There should be a way to commission an “artist” to bring your sacred love clam out of the shadows, by recreating it as a pendant for the whole world to enjoy. (Would that be called a “clameo?”)
Thankfully, the South Floridian crafter behind Vulvalovelovely wants to do just that. Send her some photos of your snail trail and she’ll gleefully empower the shit out of you.
I can think of about a million reasons why this is the creepiest thing I’ve seen all week, so let’s just focus on one element: meeting men at bars while your vadge medallion stares them down. What do you even say?

“Do you like what you see?”
“If you put your ear against it, you can hear the ocean!”
“It’s not to scale.”
“There’s a tiny compass on the back... “
“It operates on roughly the same principles as Hypercolor…”
"When the warranty expires, I might upgrade."

Way to keep it skeezy, Florida!

Laser Christmas Cats

The fellas who brought you Engineer's Guide to Cats have made a new holiday greeting, with Lasers.

Have a Merry MIDI Christmas

So you're trapped indoors while your family applauds Lou Diamond Phillips cameos on Spike? You're shovelling food in your mouth in an attempt to dodge your mother's "If you were my facebook friend..." sentences? Wondering what to do with all of those holiday tube socks?

Tune it all out and watch this simple MIDI file video. Still stressed? Consider trepanning. What do "doctors" know anyway?

Sometimes it's good to have both feet off the ground

Happy holidays from SLY.

WWTD?

Don't forget, tomorrow at Mohawk, the AustinSurreal holiday party. 10pm, free. So Like Yeah will be in the house, doling out misfortune cookies.

And now, for your enjoyment, the premiere of Hangin' With Twitter Jesus.

Response Received from Craigslist Posting Requesting "Party Talent"

Left unedited. Thanks, Mike.

*******************************
Model/Actress/Dancer/Writer/Singer/Wrestler
512-785-**** Cell
Call anytime day or night

RACE:50%Chinese/25%Scottish/25%Sioux Indian HEIGHT: 5'10'' HAIR: Black/Auburn/Goldish/Brown EYES: Brown LOCATION: Manhattan NYC BIRTH:8-13-87 AGE:21 ASTROLOGICAL SIGN:Leo
CHINESE BIRTH SIGN: Rabbit
MEASUREMENTS Bra size 36C Waist 32 Hips 36 SHOE: 10 DRESS SIZE 9-10 depending on designer
TATTOOS: 4 on back small Unicorn upper right shoulder blade colored, upper mid back down to below butt Large 2 tigers dancing black and white, Small of back tribal with 3 blue roses, lower small of back colored angels 1male 1female holding each other, 1 right wrist black tribal cover up, 1 inner lower lip ''Wicked Demon'' black'', 1 below breasts vine with a skull in the middle. PIERCINGS: 5 belly button, 1 tong, 5 ears.

EXPERIENCE:
Foot Modeling NY, NY 2004, Propaganda Magazine Print Spread Fetish Model NY, NY 2004 Extra preview to horror movie NY, NY Jt Talent & Casting 2004, Exotic Dancer Sugars & Perfect 10 night club Austin Tx 2005-2008, Foam Bikini Dance Contest 1st place winner Paradox Nightclub Austin Tx. 2006

Special Skills:
State Boxing Champion in South Dakota 7thgrade, Swimming for long periods of time, Holding breath for a min. (front flips, back flips, hand stands, cart wheels into the pool, diving, and jumping into the pool using my gymnastics experience and Dance) Gymnastics (cartwheels, front flips,splits front and back, back bends, back bend side turns, head stand, and a few other tricks I learned to do on my own that don't have a name ), Dance (Salsa, break dancing, belly dancing, stunts, ballet, tap, hip hop, exotic, Pole dancing) Horse Back Ridding ( putting the saddle on, reins on, Western, English, Bareback style ridding, I like bare back the most), Burping on command, I can burp for a few min straight never timed it but they can be long it i try, Stick fighting, gun shooting, Soccer (good at goalie), Skiing, Tennis, Dodge Ball, Scuba Diving, Fishing, I was a Girl Scout, so I know ''Survival Skills'', double jointed in my arms (can pop them out of socket, and hold my hands together in the front and put them over my head and make them go to the back with out releasing my hands), touching my nose with my tong, volleyball.

Studio Fifty-Fur

This story has been torturing me all day. Yes, it is really horrible the bear went out like that, but I can't stop envisioning the trip it must have been on, the epic woodland rager. Because you know it wasn't just that bear, it was other forest creatures too. 

I feel like this need a comic strip re-enactment.

Nightmaresville, Pop. 1

I've always had my suspicions about octopusssses: The beak, eight arms, and ability to escape in ways that haunt my dreams. They are not to be trusted, and fuuuuuck, now they've made armor.

My theory about an octopocalypse doesn't sound so crazy now, does it!!

Requiem for a Turkey Sandwich

Charles Simic on leaving your mark in books, and championing the dog-eared.

It's a Christmas Miracle!

Let's just throw a shout out to our New Times, Broward peeps and their blog, The Juice. Thanks gang, for keeping us abreast of truly important things like when this SoFla gal, named... wait for it... Merry Christmas, was arrested yesterday for having friction with the 5-0.

As per The Juice

"Just because your name is "Merry Christmas" doesn't mean you can go resisting arrest during the holiday season. That's allegedly what happened in Boynton Beach, where a 44-year-old woman by that name -- who probably grows irritable every year at this time -- came out of her home to shout at a woman who was being interviewed by police."

"But while a great deal of credit belongs to Christmas herself and
to the police officer who threw her in cuffs, let's not forget the contributions of serious news gatherers like Tory Dunnan of WPBF, who faced the terrifying prospect of filing a live report on this arrest yet managed to keep a straight face. A true pro, Dunnan also showed remarkable restraint avoiding the predictable punch lines you'd expect from a local newscast vying for web hits.

That report would have started something like this:

"Here's a holiday story that only a Grinch would enjoy..."

And it would have ended something like this:

"... This is one Merry Christmas that may not have a 'Happy New Year.'" (Pause for effect.) "Back to you, Kristin."

It's true, actually. The video footage is priceless. Check it out HERE. And no, her bday isn't even on Christmas; it's on the 28th. You can't get more South Florida than this, kiddos.

File it Under: Stuff Nobody Cares About Unless They're From Miami

Poor Rickie Ross. His frail self esteem took another blow this week when he was "snubbed" by the Grammys. But our favorite self-proclaimed Miami druglord-turned-rapper really shouldn't feel that bad; you can't get snubbed from something you were never considered for.

Like, "Wow, I'm so angry about getting snubbed from the Nobel's this year. My ant farm was killer." See, that makes no sense.

Neither does this: "I can't believe Ace Ventura Jr: Pet Detective was snubbed by the Academy Awards. Have you seen the things that boy can do with his face? Hilarious!"

And yet, getting ignored at the Grammys struck a sense of discord in our lil' hustler's heart. He recently responded by popping himself into a remix of Beyonce's jam, "Video Phone." It has the vibe of a creepy guy who's made his way into your vacation photos. Sure, Ross is only in the first minute or so, but he still manages to drop wisdom like "What I think about the Grammy's? I think they are haters. What they think 'bout the album? They think it's amazin'."

Absorb 58 seconds of lameness below:

Lovborg's Women Considered

Molly Lambert Googled it.

Art v. Science

Two of our favorite Floridians are waging war against each other here. Check out the latest installment, "The Patriot Act in One Act." Oh, and all the other ones too.

The Nights Were Walls (We Climbed Them All)

No Stoichiometry Required

We've seen periodic table cookies and cupcakes before, but Not So Humble Pie has made some truly cute ones. We'll forgive the exclusion of superheavies, lanthanoids, and actinoids, because really, who needs 'em?
She's also made lab rats, scientists, petri dish stains, and the below-pictured cephalopods.


Another favorite? Those creeping lab staples: gel electrophoresis cookies. Great ideas for dorky chem cooks.

Suck it, Apis Mellifera!

Sure, owning an apiary of traditional European honeybees carries a bit of panache, but anyone with access to top bar hive diagrams could do that. You want to redefine your social status with your insect legion, so take the road less travelled: keep bees that drink human tears.

...workers drank lachrymation (tears) from human eyes in more than 262 naturally-occurred cases at 10 sites in N and S Thailand during all months of the year. A few visits were also seen to eyes of zebu and dog, indicating a probable broad mammalian host range. On man the bees were relatively gentle visitors, mostly landing on the lower eyelashes from where they imbibed tears for 0.5-2.5 min, often singly but occasionally in congregations of 5-7 specimens per eye.

Via Boingboing.net

Lists, Music, Problems

From Sam McPheeters:

"I know I'm almost a half-decade behind on this one, but I'm still waiting for the metalcore group The Devil Wears Prada to spark a massive paradigm shift in band naming. What could be more post-everything than naming your group after a movie based on a book that directly references a high-visibility company name? Where are the new bands named 2003 Hyundai Santa Fe V6, or Save On Verizon High Speed Internet, or Barbie Wild Horse Rescue For Xbox 360? Also: Question: if you named your band The Devil Wears Prada Soundtrack, who would get to sue you?"

Your Job Sucks

Sorry gang, hiring for this gig ended in November. It involves "qualitative and quantitative data collection and analysis" at strip clubs, which is sexy scientist speak for "get paid to get your freak on." Hey Research Operator, is that a slide rule in your pocket or... oh, never mind, it's a slide rule. (Via the annals of improbable research)

From the University of Leeds Job Vacancies site:

Research Officer - The rise and regulation of lap dancing and the place of sexual labour and consumption in the night time economy
(Job reference: 316199 )
Faculty of Education, Social Sciences and Law
School of Sociology and Social Policy
(Full-time, fixed term 12 months from March 2010)

You will work on an ESRC funded study on the rise and regulation of lap dancing and the place of sexual labour and consumption in the night time economy. The post will involve qualitative and quantitative data collection and analysis. It is based in Leeds, although some travel to other cities may be necessary.

You will have, or be about to complete, a postgraduate qualification in the social sciences or relevant subject and some appropriate research experience. You will be mainly responsible for access and fieldwork. Good interviewing, communication and organisational skills are essential as is the ability to work independently and as part of a team. Experience of interviewing and conducting surveys is essential, as is prior experience of conducting research in the female sex industry.

It is anticipated that interviews will take place on December 14 2009
Salary: Grade 7 (£29,704 - £35,469 p.a)

Hold Up

Dialogues I've Possibly Hallucinated When Waking Up With the TV On at 3am

Cable access host Tom Talaverde: OK, OK, tonight, we’ve got Phyllis Schnauber, pet agent. “We give PAWS for celebrity” is her calling card, and she’s handled some of the biggest names in Hollywood in the last two decades. Phyllis Schnauber, welcome her.

[Applause]

Phyllis: Thank you, thank you...

Tom: Just how do you do it, handling these pet stars for as long as you have?

Phyllis: You know, it’s a calling for me, really. Even as a kid growing up in Passaic, New Jersey, I had a knack for spotting talent.

Tom: Now what kind of animals will you represent? Just dogs and cats?

Phyllis: Dogs and cats mostly but we will represent other trainable creatures from the animal kingdom. We’ve done rabbits, though they were much more popular in the Eighties. We did a turtle for Turtle Soup, the 1991 comedy about a turtle that learns to cook, voiced by Stephen Wright, the comedian. It was very funny, years before that Ratatouille picture! And then there was that beautiful mare, Charmaine. But the Hollywood life was not for her and she od’d on tranquilizers right after River of Courage came out. But she did get to star alongside Sean Penn, so, ya know...

[Cut to movie posters...
Turtle Soup : A turtle sitting in a ladle with a stoic face and the tagline, “You ever wonder why they call it soup?”
River of Courage: Closeup of a horse and Sean Penn looking off into the distance.]

Tom: Now, you made headlines recently for dropping one of your clients.

Phyllis: Yes, yes.

[Cut to still of a Chinese Crested]

Phyllis: Krysten, yes. She has issues, it’s true, and I knew that going in. But I saw the potential there. After the success of Marked for Love, she just let it get away from her...the neutered sex parties, the fling with Colin Farrell. She also had an eating disorder, I’m not gonna lie.

What's Not to Like About This?

Via

Chivalry Is Dead

Via Worldfamousdesignjunkies.com

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.

Cookin' With Coolio

Santa! You got my letter!

Spoiler alerts on this season's must have book, from Eatmedaily.com

Coolioisms

* "Hell, when I was growing up I could make a meal out of a package of Top Ramen and a bottle of Windex."
* "Everything I cook tastes better than yo' momma's nipples."
* "I may not be an iron chef, but I'm the only chef with platinum records."
* "You can't have your spatulas and your whisks runnin' around like they own the place."
* "My marinades add color and flavor so intense that it makes the Mona Lisa look like the Sunday edition of Marmaduke."
* "If MacGyver could turn a paper clip and a roll of toilet paper into a Jet Ski, then you can use a slotted spoon to create a breakfast of mass destruction."

A Horse of a Different Color

TSA Favors Sweet to Savory

Jet Setters be warned: Pies on planes = fine. Dipping sauces = less so.

As per TSA

Everyone has favorite foods from home that they want to bring to holiday dinners, or items from their destination that they want to bring back home. Travelers should know that while pies are permitted through the security checkpoint, here is a list of liquids, gels and aerosol items that you should put in your checked bag, ship ahead, or leave at home.

* Cranberry sauce
* Creamy dips and spreads
(cheeses, peanut butter, etc.)
* Gift baskets with food items
(salsa, jams and salad dressings)
* Gravy
* Jams
* Jellies

* Maple syrup
* Oils and vinegars
* Salad dressing
* Salsa
* Sauces
* Soups
* Wine, liquor and beer

For the snow globe enthusiast:

TSA does not permit snow globes through the security checkpoint because they contain an undetermined amount of liquid. Snow globes are permitted in checked baggage.

Let Us Give Thanks For

1.) The Baconwave: Because really, who has the time?

2.) Regresty.com: Pointing out that just 'cause you have access to a hot glue gun, does not mean that you should sell crafts.

3.) Cat wigs: self-explanatory.

The White Meat Album

KFC, now serving up Bigfoot in Europe.

Dating: Yr Doin' it Wrong

So, I'll say it. I go on bad first dates, exclusively. I'm not sure if it's a path I've chosen, or just one that I've drunkenly stumbled into, but you could say I've become a guru on the topic of terrible encounters. For this reason, I feel qualified to extend some helpful dating advice to the DoE's (Dudes of Earth.)

Tip 1: Don't show up with your buddy.
I know that this seems intuitive to most, but some guys think bringin' their bro along is a good idea. It isn't. If women wanted to date small children we would cruise matinees of Where the Wild Things Are in this van:

Tip 2: Talking about your adulterous ex.
Our silent inner monologue during the first time you bring it up: "Ouch. I probably didn't need to know that just yet. Sucks to be that guy."

The second time: "Let's see, HEB closes at ??? I need eggs, coffee, bread..."

The third time: "I should really get back into vermiculture. I'll need to get a plastic crate and drill in some air holes. I should start dating guys who own tools..."

Tip 3: Pick the girl up, or at least offer to.
If I were going downtown with a friend, I would pick them up. It's good manners. Also, it gives you a chance to get the awkward out of the way fast before you start mainlining gin at the bar. Need another reason? Good chicks will smoke you out upon arrival.

There you go fellas, you're welcome.

Speed (Metal) Dating

Have you ever been lured to a shitty club -- say Red Eyed Fly -- by someone you once considered a friend? If so, you've probably wondered how all of these terrible generic metal bands populate themselves. Awkward conversations in the bass section of Guitar Center? By placing and responding to ads in the back of Rag Magazine? Craigslist "seeking" section or Chronicle Shots in the Dark?
There's got to be a better way.

I propose Speed (Metal) Dating, mainly because the mental image is Ahhh-dorable. Wayward musicians would meet up at some location, probably a pizzeria, and take turns interviewing potential bandmates. (Drummers, would of course have free admission.) "Who are your musical influences?" "What are your side projects?" "Do you have access to a van?"

Bam! You're playing Headhunters The. Next. Night.
Thank me later. (But please don't invite me.)

Rib-Shaped Things are Back

Sure, the organic/local/slow food movements have their places in this world, but when you crave greasy french fries and nutrient-free sandwiches, that hippy crap won't save you. Nope, when you need copious calories fast, you know what to do: tap into those glowing, golden beakens of arched hope.

Yesterday, I did just that. When I pulled up to order, a VERY excited voice came over the speaker: "Hey! Why don't you get a McRib? They're finally back!" I gracefully declined, but had to know more. I pulled to the window and asked Team Leader Eric about his riblust.

Kind Robot: "Eric. How long has the McRib been back?"
Team Leader Eric: "Only just today! It's the very first day! It's been so long! Why didn't you get one? Is it because it's a heart attack on a bun?"
KR: "That doesn't bother me. It's the shape. It's packed to look like it has bones in it, but you and I both know there's never been anything resembling a bone in that particle pork."
T.L.E.: "You shouldn't worry about those things. People have been calling their friends, makin' three, four trips through, gettin' more McRibs. It's been at least eight months since we've had them. People were giving up."

It turns out that this is true. I've been alerting people about the McRib's re-arrival ever since and the responses have been mixed. Some people shudder, while others immediately call loved ones to tell them the amazing news.
Also, it's got a jazzy new website: http://www.mcrib.com/

They Also Double as Floatation Devices

Ig Nobel winner, Elena Bodnar, is marketing the fruits of her life's labor in the form of the bra mask. At first glance it looks like an ordinary off the shoulder boulder holder. But when the heavy shit hits and the sky rains macaroni, only those with a bra mask will be spared. See, each bra breaks into two satin cup masks, protecting its owner from... dust I guess? What evs, at least we'll all get one final chuckle at human folly as men and women scamper the streets with delicates on their faces.

I could only find the video as a link, so visit it HERE.

But a quick google search did reveal the amazing video below, hosted by a competing bra mask innovator. I know what you're thinking: "Is the bra mask market be large enough to accommodate TWO entrepreneurs?" Well, at these prices, you can't afford NOT to buy one.

Ringers in Next Season's Adult Softball League

SXSW. The Chronicle. KOOP. All will fall victim to the newest addition to ASL: The Highly Evolved Robots of Bro-town.
Steal a base and they'll sever your tendons with their meticulously accurate LASER beams. Talk shit and they'll use the Matrix of Leadership to breath life into your smartphone and turn its loyalties. They will battle foes with unyielding resolve and leave only a pile of perfectly dismantled bones in their wake. The Chronicle, however, will still have better uniforms. Season 2010 is going to be great.

"The Fifth State of Matter: Meat Shake"

In a perfect world these girls would live upstairs. They would venture down nightly to experiment with dangerous meat/liquor/milkshake combinations while we all wear lovely vintage dresses. We would trim each others bangs while concocting new evolutionary states of drunkenness. Our student loan companies would never find us. On our death beds we would know that our lives were meaningful for we had provided the world with a great service: swine and poultry based libations. Until that day comes, Alie & Georgia: We toast you.

Light up the mutha fuckin' room.

This puts my LED headlamp to shame. Whoever steals me this dress will be rewarded with riches (mostly in the form of baked goods) beyond their wildest dreams.

Emails That Involuntarily Make You Remember 1997

OBITUARY Guitarist Launches BBQ Sauce

Trevor Peres, guitarist of long running Florida death metal legends OBITUARY, recently launched his own Bar-B-Que sauce line. Dubbed T-Bone's Famous, Peres' "Original Rib'Licous Bar-B-Que Sauce" has "a sweet and tangy flavor with a blend of mild spices and a hint of hickory smoke." In a word: Awesome. Peres will be releasing additional flavors -- Spicy Rib Rub, Sweet Chicken Rub and Spicy Hot Bar-B-Que -- in the coming weeks.

So Like Lexicon

Updates on our ever-changing vernacular.

Manslide: 1.) The sordid aftermath of a manvalanche 2.) When an assemblage of your former trysts are spotted engaging one another in conversation. Duck and cover, girls. Duck and cover.

Layover: A man of the interim, to tide you over until something more substantial comes along.

Rock and Roll Blue Balls: Pressure build-up in your heart and groin during long stints of ho-hum live shows. Recently discovered cures: Magnifico! aboard a party barge and/or two days at Fun Fun Fun Fest.

Cheapskates' Guide To Fun Fun Fun Fest. Day 2 (AKA: I Got Splashed by Metallagher and All I Got Were These Lousy Cottage Cheese Highlights.)

What's that FFF Fest? You've got rain? Two words: umbrella hat. And mud? Again: rad galoshes. You're not going to win that easily: Goonies never say die.

The Goal: Do Fun Fun Fun Fest on 5 dollars a day, or less while staying stoned and drunk.

Rouge correspondent, Farm Fresh, was first on the scene Sunday, so she paid it forward with a visit to the Logan's Run inspired Camel Tent to score me a free pack. For those of you who didn't fall prey to Camel's seductive, neon siren cry, let me assure you: you're a better person because of it. In addition to having impossibly attractive people force handfulls of creepy new smokeless tobacco products on you (Snus), it also felt like a room where ET life performs anal probes, where bygone ravers are resurrected, and where all of your personal information is filed in a master mainframe -- most likely blacklisting you from the new National Health Care Plan. But fuck it. It kept me in smokes through Danzig.

The Plan: Use the remaining half of day two's buried booze and smuggle in more.

Since we still had some buried booze on premises, we only needed to smuggle in a supplemental supply. A friend from work lent me her boozenoculars, giant duel flasks that masquerade as stuffy old "ordinary" binoculars. Let 'em check your decoy, NPR tote bag. It's clean. I know what you're thinking: "Hey, Kind Robot, that's great and all, but what about mixers?"
The answer? Do The Bustle.

Baby doll dresses are terribly forgiving of form. Create a make-shift bustle in the back and you too could smuggle in one liter containers of tonic, loaves of bread, hunks of cheese, etc. Hell, you might even turn a few heads with all that junk in your trunk.

The Outcome:

Five dollars on chicken flautas during Day One. Totes worth it since fried doesn't smuggle well. Day Two? Zero spent, plus two free packs of smokes. I declare this mission a success. But don't go digging around Waterloo expecting to find our castoffs; So Like Yeah girls take lessons from the boy scouts. We take only photos and leave only footprints.

CHEAPSKATES' GUIDE TO FUN FUN FUN FEST. DAY 1 (AKA: Suck it Cerberus!)

THE GOAL: Do Fun Fun Fun Fest on 5 bucks a day, or less while staying stoned and drunk.

Rent. Emergency trips to the vet. That trendy griffin costume at Halloween. All of that stuff accumulates financially, and it has a tendency to happen during periods with gross quantities of EFP (Explosive Fun Potential). But you don’t have to be flush to have fun; you just need to start acting like a Goonie.

THE PLAN: Bury two days worth of booze in advance to avoid friction with gate guards.

Not only was this really fun, but it worked like a champ. A fellow Goonie and dear friend of So Like Yeah printed out the map from FFF Fest’s website and brought a mag light, so that we wouldn’t dig down where porta potties, stages, or – most ironic of all – bars, were slated to be placed.
I pruned out a little citrus, some lemongrass and other herbs from my yard, shoved them in mason jars, then filled them with vodka. I put those and tonic bottles into freezer-sized zipper bags, grabbed a shovel and met my fellow Goonie at Waterloo Park several days prior to the festival. We hurled the shovel over the fence, snuck in through a gap, found our spots and did some digging. (Also, an FYI: After retrieving your booze, those FFF Fest maps can be rolled into excellent funnels.)

THE RESULT: Did it work? My hangover thinks so.

There’s only one problem with this plan: it doesn’t take human nature into consideration. A drunk with buried treasure isn’t going to practice moderation. Needless to say, the drunker we got the more we wanted to dig up the second pile, so we tapped into Sunday’s supply early. That’s alright. We have a plan for Day Two as well.

Death Is the Final Forehead Slap

I'm hungry.

Suck it, Martha. An inventive blogger from Forkable created these rockin' faux blood sample lollipops.




Seasoning served up mustachioed at etsy

Who needs stem cells when we have communion wafers?

But, Do They Have Chemistry?

Pardon Me, Do I Offend?

A dark horseman has emerged in the never-ending quest to prey on women's insecurities. Minty fresh snake oil salesmen, Linger Internal Feminine Flavoring, is marketing a breath mint for your most subcutaneous lady part. Because... you have halitosis of the vadge. Next they will sell you vaginal chap stick and orthodontics that you can't afford because you blew your tax return on that hymen replacement/labia reconstruction combo deal.
The most offensive thing about Linger is that the product isn't even safe. Mother Jones Assistant Editor Jen Phillips researched the product's parent company: it makes traditional oral breath mints for trade shows, then repackages them for your 'tang. How does that affect you and your love clam? Well, sugar is a catalyst for yeast, meaning that should you pop a couple Lingers, your oven is instantly set to raise.
And really, why are they targeting the gentler genitalia? Why not the scrotum? Fabreeze for Balls? Faballz? At least that would be doing the world a needed service.

So Like Lexicon

Manvalanche: When all of the boys you're interested in show up to the same social gathering. (Via Sweaty Updo)

Himbo: A male bimbo. (Via Shelley)

Carmageddon: Mopac or I-35 between the hours of 4:15 and 6:45 p.m.

Sugar Bush is Ready for Her Close Up

New Times of Broward, Palm Beach broke the story in '06. Crack writer Julia Reischel and photographer Colby Katz uncovered the tale of Sugar Bush. Read the story here (you should, it's a great article), and you'll find that a small squirrel with an affinity for fancy dressing was hell-bent on ending the War on Terror.

Whether or not Sugar Bush's pictorial photo spreads have had any influence on Washington is still unclear, but they were enough to grab the attention of California-based production company, Small Wonder Films. The new documentary, Sugar Bush Squirrel: The Movie, pans in less on our sciuridae superstar and more her handler, Kelly Foxton of Boca Raton. Watch the trailer here. It will make your life.

(Too lazy to follow a link? Really? Fine, you'll have to settle for this pathetic stand-in: a video of squirrels running an obstacle course.)

What, No Jovan?

So Like Lexicon

Updates on our ever-changing vernacular.


Deja boo: The distinct feeling that you've dated this guy before.

Complaint Box

The packaging for Trojan's new "Ecstasy" condom screams, "Feels like nothing's there!" Yeah, shouldn't that condom exist already, and not have shooting stars on the box?

What does this mind-bending condom give you? Not much in the way of details, just some vague, rigid lines like "comfort shape allows freedom of movement for a more natural experience" and "deep ribs at base and end to increase stimulation."

There's also the Trojan Ecstasy "Her Pleasure" condom. Brace yourself, ladies. It offers the same vague benefits, just sub in the even vaguer "textured for female stimulation." So, what exactly is it stimulating? I'm guessing not what it needs to be. If it's called "Ecstasy," there better be strobe lights beaming out of my picachu.

Why not package the condoms in a Pringles-shaped can that explodes glitter and foam snakes when you open it? Maybe a motion sensor that plays "The Macarena"?