You are browsing the archive for 2012 August.

Wordsmoker Anthropology: The Purell™ Life

August 21, 2012 in Wordsmoker Anthropology

In the heart of Broward County, there’s a little known grotto that’s carved into the decorative hedges lining a certain movie theater parking lot, where one can go and see all manners of the region’s wild fauna—lizards in particular. If I’m being completely honest here, I do not love all members of Class Reptilia equally. I definitely prefer turtles and lizards to snakes, sleestaks, or crocogators, but I grew up in a different time, so that’s really more my cross to bear. Anyway, the incredible thing about this magical secret garden is that it’s crawling with all kinds of lizards. I found it while urinating.

Without boring you with the proper Latin names for all of the difference species of lizards that I’ve seen, there are Cuban anoles, Jesus lizards, Enik, iguanas, and maybe even an occasional Gila monster. I’m not sure how there came to be such a gentle understanding between these noble creatures and myself. Maybe they sense my inner tranquility. Read the rest of this entry →

Book Fuck Club Meets Tonight

August 21, 2012 in Book Fuck Club

Just a quick announcement:

We will meet tonight at 9:00 PM EST to discuss Aaron Rayburn’s “The Shadow God,” sort of an R-rated coming-of-age story about three friends as they learn to cope with adulthood, destroy Satan, and most importantly, not be fags.

 

UPDATE: Due to an unforeseen crisis involving a friend, I’ll have to postpone this. Yet. Again.  We will discuss it on Thursday at 8:00 PM EST.

Moth Upon My Sink

August 20, 2012 in Wordsmoker Poetry

Goodbye little moth
Though I never knew you at all
You had the grace to hold yourself
While the flies around you crawled
They crawled out from dried cat food
And they whispered out your name
Said you were no good
That all moths were the same

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A Monkees Tribute To Jonestown Survivors

August 20, 2012 in Cinema

The Jonestown massacre lives on in our hearts even today, like a sad stent inside a fat person, and that fat person is us, humanity.

Jonestown showed us our innocence lost alongside our own paradise lost, and we can only wish Milton had concentrated on cheese production in rural England as subject matter, and not the terrible fate upon fate that befell those in Jonestown.

For is not Jonestown Everytown?

Everytown, Everywhere?

Literally any town in the world can be the setting of mass murder – just as long as there’s enough people. That’s all it takes, Ladies and Gentlemen.

People.

Rest in peace, Jonestown massacre victims.

Sleep a little sounder, Jonestown massacre survivors.

Let The Monkees sing the truth to power, and love to hate.

From the video description:

“This is another departure from the types of videos I usually make, but I felt compelled to do a tribute to some of the brave souls who survived the massacre at Jonestown. If anything positive is to come from such tragedy and loss, it is that their pain was not in vain and that more can be done to help prevent such terrible things from happening again. The faces of these people show rays of sunshine and their memory is not forgotten. Let’s continue to honor them!”

Today In Gaffes

August 20, 2012 in Important Things Of Our Time

The female body truly is a mysterious and magical thing.

From their complicated genitalia which require Rubiks-cube-like maneuvering and a surgeon’s dexterity to bring to orgasm, to their mysterious monthly cycles that plunge them in and out of vicious hysterias, men often have a hard time understanding just what makes women tick.

But both men and women alike were surprised to learn today that the female body has another remarkable quirk; namely, its ability to self-terminate a pregnancy (or prevent fertilization altogether) in the instance of rape.  Read the rest of this entry →

Hey, NBC!

August 15, 2012 in The Unbearable Lightness Of Television

Man I’ve got a show for you. You listening? Okay. We all agree that some sort of moral and ethical barrier was crossed by airing “Stars Earn Stripes”. “Vaulted” is probably more accurate a term. But fuck that. It’s done now. The line in the sand has been crossed and today we’re all a bit clearer in where television is in 2012. It’s pretending that pretend-celebrities pretend to pretend that they’re going into pretend-battle against pretend-enemies in a pretence of a show from a pretence of a broadcast network.

That’s television today.

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Gallery Girls Recap: I Weep For Humanity

August 15, 2012 in Fameballs, Recaps, television


Welcome to the first episode of The Real Housewives of New York, Junior Edition. It’s just like the regular Housewives, only with 97% less life experience and a splatter of paint. The show follows the careers of [counts them] six or seven young women who are working very, very exhaustively hard to make it in the cutthroat art world. No, they’re not artists. They’re gallery girls. What is a gallery girl? Apparently it is a recent college graduate who procures an internship at an art gallery while her parents foot the bill for her frivolous lifestyle. Or, as one girl puts it, “You work for free until somebody one day says we’ll give you a job.” I’m only 30 seconds into the show and I already hate everyone on my television screen. Read the rest of this entry →

Avatar of Vaquero

by Vaquero

Book Fight Club: Threats

August 14, 2012 in Wordsmoker Book Club

Hello! Hello! It is time for Book Fight Club. Tonight we are discussing Threats by Amelia Gray. Are you ready to rumble?

More Cunnilingus Small-Talk Discovered

August 14, 2012 in Science

I love talking dirty to a lady-friend. I love telling them how beautiful their lady-bits are, how good they taste, how good they smell. I love talking about them, how they should be proud of them, how complex they are, how they can literally create life on this planet, and how that’s something I’ll never, ever be able to experience, because I don’t have the choice due to my man-gineering. I’m probably a bit like The Devil in The Witches of Eastwick, but with more hair.

I heart vaginas. I’m not ashamed of it.

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