Wednesday, August 26, 2009

What's In Your Purse?

It started when some glassy-eyed woman next to me at the bar plopped down her massive purse, opened it, and proceeded to empty the entire contents onto the bar, presumably in search of money. What came out was amazing: a birth certificate, two hairbrushes, a Ziploc bag filled with bottles of lotion and loose peanuts, a birthday card, a half-eaten doughnut. I stared at the pile in wonder - it was all so vaginal. I expected a rabbit or small child next.

So of course we sent renegade photographer Shelley Hiam off into the night, and she took these shots. Enjoy the first in our series, predictably called What's In Your Purse?

Tuesday, August 25, 2009

Dad Fail

So really, which is worse? Locking the kids in the car while you drink with fancy ladies, or paying a stranger to misplace your children's best friend....Skittles the Cocker Spaniel?

Monday, August 24, 2009

Fangs for the memories

Wanna stunt everything that's intrinsically cool about cats? Wanna reduce them to hurky jerky muppets that are afraid to walk, hunt, and seek affection? Wanna completely dash their street cred?

You are not alone!

The makers of
Catbib tackled these dilemmas by creating a simple, weighted flap. It connects around the neck and hangs to the front like an over sized power tie, impeding the feline's ability to move without stumbling. In theory, it keeps said furball from killing other animals deemed cute (birds, squirrels, well-dressed mice). In reality, it pisses the cat off so much that it will simply kill blindly out of spite -- or at least that's what happened when my co-workers tried the Catbib on Badji, our finest hunter. He immediately returned, bib covered in blood, holding a pulsating vole between his teeth as it bled out in the middle of the store.

You can't keep a good cat down.

Like a Natural Woman

Pants have gotten sooo boring. Only you know the women who are going to purchase these are not the ones whose winking ass cheeks you really want to stare at. I guess that's kind of the point?

Still, WINKING ASS CHEEKS in 2009.

Sunday, August 23, 2009

The Last Supper

Local radio superheroes of The Mascot Wedding Show alerted the world to a grave food injustice yesterday. It's a crime against good taste, self respect, and the sandwich status quo. Your health insurance plan is probably rewriting its policy now, and adding a pre existing condition clause for those who have consumed one.
It's the Double Down from KFC, and if this commercial is any indication, the hormones in the chicken will make grown men's voices sound like characters from the Little Rascals. As disturbing as this fried felony is, we at So Like Yeah are more concerned about the safety issues that accompany eating two fried chicken patties filled with melted cheese, drippy bacon, and Colonel Sauce.

This "sandwich" will never, ever, be taken all the way back to a person's house, placed on a piece of china, and slowly sawed into with a fork and knife. Instead it will be gnawed at while in traffic by 100% of its purchasers, one of whom will inevitably run into you at a red light while steering with his knees. Your spirit will be floating above the crime scene as he paws away the grease waterfall cascading down his chin and fumbles to dial 911 with his massive, chicken-dipped phalanges. You always suspected it might end this way.

It doesn't have to. If KFC would adopt our idea -- The KFC Feedbag (copyright pending) -- highways would be safer for everyone, gluttons included. The device would hook over the ears and rest gently under the chin, allowing you -- the safe driver -- to keep your hands on the wheel AND your mouth in the meal. It'll be like BlueTooth for food.

Thursday, August 20, 2009

U-N-I-T-Why, are you seeing someone?

A recent study of murky scientific valor was conducted at Oklahoma State University. It's conclusion is that women are manburglers: that we seek out dudes who are happily attached and lure them back to our caves for reprogramming. Or, more gently put, that Taken Men = Good Men.
The tools applied in the data collection are highly arguable and paints women as match-snatchers, which leads me to suspect the two Social Psychologist who conducted the experiment were recently cheated on.