Sunday, June 19, 2011

Uptalking


I'm not always the most tolerant gal, particularly when it comes to language. Lots of voices are like nails on the chalkboard to me (I’m looking at you, Real Housewife Teresa Guidice), but it particularly irks my shit when women end their sentences on the upswing, as though they are asking a QUESTION? As though they are unsure of what they’re SAYING? As though they are seeking APPROVAL? As though they are asking for someone to please, please punch them in the FACE?

If you want to be an insecure, infantilized girl, head to the Playboy Mansion and become a Stepford bunny. Until then, grow the fuck up and finish your sentences with a different type of emphasis.

(photo: cauldroncraftminiatures.blogspot.com)

Monday, June 13, 2011

Steampunk

I don’t want to belong to any club that would have me as a member. —Groucho Marx
Or this guy. —TIWTPITF


I like imagination. I like creativity. I don’t like this Victorian goth take on the renaissance faire. Instead of a jongleur in a jester’s cap, steampunkers strap on leather goggles and embrace a good Rube-Goldberg machine or Tesla coil for shits and giggles.

The thing is, the good old days weren’t always good, as Billy Joel would say. If you’re going to fire up some steam-powered contraptions using your erector set, you’d best showcase the tuberculosis and smallpox that rocked 19th-century Britain as well.

You aren’t edgy or alternative. You’re just a former LOTR/Star Wars/D&D fan dressed up as an H.G. Wells’ wet dream. Doff the leather waistcoat and travel back to the present before I engage in a little time travel of my own and sic a Morlock on you.

(photo: flickr.com/photos/nathaninsandiego)

Sunday, June 5, 2011

Non-prescription eyeglasses


Guess what? I’m selfish.

I’m also blind as a bat. I’ve worn -13.5 Coke bottles over my eyes since second grade. Combine these two and it makes me blind with rage when I see hipsters trying to look emo, ironic, brainy, sexy librarianish, or Weezery by donning a pair of frames.

If you don’t need them as your third and fourth eye, if your peepers don’t look like tiny blinking specks or giant dilated saucers behind your lenses, back way from the Oliver Peoples and pass by Pearl Vision.

Buy a hat or get a tattoo, and let me have this.

(photo: loulove22.wordpress.com)