Oh my spiders, you guys. IT’S OCTOBER 1ST. You know what that means…
… Halloween candy! YAAAAAAAAAY!
Fact: Halloween is the best day of all the days. Candy is the best food of all the diabetes-causing foods. Central Market is the best store of all the grocery stores in Texas. Therefore it stands to reason that Halloween candy from Central Market is the best of all the everything.
It is my great pleasure to review Central Market’s seasonal candy collection, which is what I’m about to do, in case you hadn’t figured that out.
The time has come to once again list my favorite search terms people have used to find my blog (read the first and second editions for context, if you’d like). Here they are, in all their screwed-up glory:
Rebecca Black Friday Flakes: I’m assuming this person was hoping to find Rebecca Black-inspired cereal and not dandruff. If cereal’s the case (please let it be the case), they’re in luck because I just invented some.
On this note, if you’d like to test your endurance for Friday Flakes, click here and see if you can make it to the 10 minute mark like a winner (yes, that is a challenge). I only made it 10 seconds.
Chicken Penis: Before you get all judgmental, ask yourself, do you know what a chicken penis looks like? I don’t. Most people don’t, because the rooster penis is internal, which I definitely did not learn by Googling “chicken penis” a moment ago.
I know. This is something we’re not supposed to admit. I say “we” because you do it too.
Cyber stalking. Cyberstalking. Is it one word or two? I’m going with one from here on out because… um… regardless:
Cyberstalking: America’s pastime (like it was ever really baseball anyway).
I used to think the biggest consequence of cyberstalking was being thought of as weird or creepy, or, more rarely, having the person you’re cyberstalking catch you in the act and having them ask, “Why is my name in your Google search bar?” and you’re like, “Uhhhhh I was just testing my search engine to make sure it worked” and they’re like, “I don’t believe you” and you’re like, “Well you shouldn’t be looking at my computer screen anyway” and they’re like, “That’s my computer and this is my house and how the hell did you get in here?!”
Ahem. Anyway, since I openly admit I am both weird and creepy, the stigma of cyberstalking someone (usually someone I’m attracted to) rarely keeps me from doing it. Not anymore though. Never again.
Or maybe always again.
That probably doesn’t make sense to you. Allow me to explain: (more…)
It’s the Friday the 13th miracle no one was asking for! Two blog posts in one day!
See this dress? It’s awesome, but it’s made out of something totally gross.
Find out what it’s made of after the jump.
Today is Friday the 13th, but it’s also National Cow Appreciation Day, which means free meals from Chick-Fil-A. The stipulation to the free food is that you have to dress up like a cow to get it. You can half-ass it and get a sandwich, or you can go full-cow and get an entire meal. Being poor and obsessed with Chick-Fil-A, I donned my best cowtfit and got my hooves on some delicious chicken. It got me thinking, though.
A while back, I wrote a post about fashion photo shoots on farms. It’s amazing that the world has so many crappy, pretentious farm photo spreads to offer, yet none that feature models posing as livestock. It’s a void that clearly needs to be filled, and I decided to take on the responsibility of doing so in the first ever Shit My Cake Says Photo Shoot:
I got my first tick today. I think it was a deer tick. It was big, and it was gross.
If you haven’t heard about the Gummy Bear Dress, allow me to fill you in. Someone made a dress out of 50,000 gummy bears that weighs 220 lbs because they were so inspired by the awesome Alexander McQueen dress pictured below that they just had to
plagiarize recreate it in gelatin-based candies.
It made me realize that I’ve missed several golden opportunities to make my own interpretations of beautiful things out of random crap. If only the bed I made out of graham cracker crumbs hadn’t been carried away by the ants. The ants. So many ants… so many… there wasn’t time…
Oh well. The good news is, there’s no shortage of artistic people with a few screws loose who get struck by inspiration the way I got struck by a shopping cart in a Kroger parking lot
because I tried to steal an old lady’s newly bought denture cleaner so I could see what it tasted like for no reason. People get inspired all the time, and they put the products of their inspirations online:
A Rant About People Who Don’t Like Me and How Terribly Self-Conscious I Feel When People Don’t Like Me. Also There’s Some Stuff About Professionalism in Here.
I am a total fucking bitch. I mean a Total. Fucking. Bitch.
Watch this at least once please so I can win free stuff from the awesome and admittedly sketchy Asian clothing website, Romwe.com! It’s a win-win. I actually win something, and you get to make fun of me FO’ LIFE!
Asian child, I will eat you. Don’t think I won’t do it.
I recently got a job at a fast food restaurant because I forgot why I went to college. The place where I work serves hot dogs, and not just any hot dogs. Delicious hot dogs (see: Figure 4). I’ve never been a huge hot dog fan (unless “hot dog” is a euphemism), but being around them constantly is making me crave them. Need them. (more…)
Sappy Graduation Post, Well, It’s Not That Sappy, but Whatever, It’s a Graduation Post but It’s Mostly About Sherman and Yes This Whole Sentence Is the Title of This Post.
You’re not cool if you don’t recognize the guy in this picture.
I graduated today, only not. Technically, I graduated early. Impressive, no? The answer actually is no because I only graduated a semester early, and honestly, it was an accident. I didn’t mean to be so damn efficient in my college career.
That’s a lie. I was not at all efficient in my college career, but in high school I did dual credit stuff at a community college so I could hang out with potheads who had animal hoarding problems. But that’s a story for another time.
Because I took those community college classes as a teen with misplaced anger issues, I didn’t have to go to college for as long as I thought I would. My plan was to go to Austin College (not in Austin) for a year or so, then transfer to a school that actually offered a program I was interested in. I swore I would not graduate from Austin College. I refused. I was going somewhere better.
I never transferred, and thank God for that.
…I started a fashion blog! So far it’s really pathetic and has no followers, but yay anyway! It’s called No Crocs Allowed because Crocs are terrible. I will personally see to it that anyone under the age of 40 who wears them eats a poo pie. Anyway, since I update this blog so regularly, it just makes sense that I’d start another one. So go troll my new blog, please and thank you.
You only need one kidney. I’m not suggesting anything illegal per say, but organs can get you some pretty good moolah on the black market (BM for those of us in the know… wait, no—BM is bowel movement). You’re going to need two heaping handfuls of cold hard cash if you’re going to afford this bad boy:
Often times, I’ve found myself flipping through the pages of fashion magazines only to be supremely confused, mostly by the farms. The farms, the farms! Why do so many photo shoots happen on farms? Farmers don’t wear ball gowns when they milk their cows. They wear, like, unfashionable stuff. Like overalls (sorry for making you picture overalls… you can go throw up now). This phenomenon has been going on for years and it has never made sense. Not that fashion makes any sense, really, except for making some of us feel bad and some of us feel amazing. But no one feels amazing in Valentino if they’re loading hay bales into the back of a rusty pick-up, so why are farms a staple of high fashion advertising?
I think this is from America’s Next Top
Attention Whore Model. I’m not even gonna ask what’s up with the black thing she’s eating. All that matters is that a model is actually eating… while jumping up and down on what looks like a road paved with cow poo.
It’s Christmas time, so it only makes sense that I should write about last Halloween. Here’s a step-by-step guide of how to turn yourself into that herpes-infested pumpkin lady we all love to loathe so much.
…One Slutty Pumpkin!
…Seven Weird-Ass Costumes, a Baby Doll Limb Coat Rack, Frankenstein-esque Homemade Sex Doll, Nine Slasher Cupcakes, a Baby Doll Centipede, Creepy Easter Bunny, and Human Body Part Candy Sushi!
…Seven Weird-Ass Costumes! A Baby Doll Limb Coat Rack, Frankenstein-esque Homemade Sex Doll, Nine Slasher Cupcakes, a Baby Doll Centipede, Creepy Easter Bunny and Human Body Part Candy Sushi!
Great boobs think alike.
…a Baby Doll Limb Coat Rack! A Frankenstein-esque Homemade Sex Doll, Nine Slasher Cupcakes, a Baby Doll Centipede, Creepy Easter Bunny, and Human Body Part Candy Sushi.
The only way this could be improved is if you could automate the hands so they grab you when you hang your coat.
…a Frankenstein-esque Homemade Sex Doll! Nine Slasher Cupcakes, a Baby Doll Centipede, Creepy Easter Bunny, and Human Body Part Candy Sushi.
May meets “To Catch a Predator”, in the worst way possible.