What Are We Gonna Do With All This Trash?

August 25, 2012

Rep. Todd Akin: Terrible Human Being

May 25, 2012

Presidential

While President Obama has had a pretty up and down presidency thus far, and even though I don't always agree with his politics (I fear my dreams of a national salary cap will never be realized), I don't think I've ever seen a more powerful image of any U.S. president...

Courtesy: Pete Souza/The White House (via Wikimedia Commons)

The caption from the White House Flickr feed reads: "The youngster wanted to see if the President's haircut felt like his own."

8-Bit Holy Shit!

I submit to you:

8-Bit OK Computer

8-Bit Kid A

Super Morrissey Bros.

May 03, 2012

This Is What Happens When You Fall Asleep In A Tanning Booth...

..and wake up FOUR. YEARS. LATER!

And Oh Shit, Ashton...

..you fell asleep in a tanning booth, too?

But that doesn't explain the stereotypical Indian garb and accent while pimping yourself in an ad for snack chips, now does it?

April 17, 2012

Ummmm.....Guys?

Racist Swedish Cake was supposed to bring attention to the plight of female genital mutilation, but uh...kinda missed the mark. I don't even wanna know what was for dinner.

Also, this happened to the cake:

Swedish minister of culture, Lena Adelsohn Liljeroth, was invited to commence exhibition of the installation during a cake cutting party in which she performed, “a clitoridectomy on the cake, which she did by removing the cake woman’s labiums,” as reported by Swedish news site Friatider.Se

Mmmmmmmmm...cake labiums..{drool}..

March 23, 2012

Duh, Pete... Levity!!

A History Of Trash

Trash, at first, was a pretty cool guy. You know, he’d come over with some beers, and you’d hang out and have a couple of laughs. Maybe Trash brought some weed with him, and you guys tried to sync up Dark Side Of The Moon with The Wizard Of Oz until you remembered you lost your VHS copy of that movie sometime in college and that you fucking hate Pink Floyd. Good times were had, nonetheless.

But then, you don’t know what changed, but Trash started to overstay his welcome. He’d just linger for hours, never taking the hint you wanted him to leave, no matter how many times you yawned obnoxiously or mentioned how early you had to get up tomorrow. Trash just didn’t get it. You were getting older. You didn’t have the time anymore to stay up until 3 a.m. to talk about the Port season of “The Wire” or how much you miss Jawbox. Eventually, you just stopped taking Trash’s phone calls and no longer replied to his group e-mails about sneaking into abandoned mental hospitals.

Last time you saw Trash, he was smoking alone outside a local dive bar, looking down at his decaying and mismatched shoes. You hoped he had been doing well. You hoped he had not been hurt by the disintegration of your friendship. And if he had, you wanted to comfort him. You wanted to tell him that even though people move on with their lives, it doesn’t mean they stop caring. You wanted him to see in your eyes a sincere appreciation for the time you shared, because all the relationships in our lives help make us who we are, and even if you weren’t the best of friends anymore, you wanted him to know that there would always be a piece of Trash in your heart.

But instead, you looked away and crossed the street. You were with your new girlfriend, and you really didn’t want to have to explain Trash to her. She’d never understand.