I'm right where I always wanted to be. The magnetic lumberjack has informed me that my new catch phrase should be "Stand up and take notice, losers." I quote: "Not only do you all need to pay attention to what I'm saying, but you're all worse than I am." I laughed so hard that my stitches hurt. He has also advised me to tattoo "stand up and take notice, losers" across my stomach and "We're all going down the crapper one by one" across my back.
It's good to know that I have at least one bloggy fan. Bitch.
Tuesday, July 27, 2004
Take these ties and make them true. Is it wrong that I think it ironic that the NY Sun published this on their editorial page? I'm not saying it's inaccurate, I'm just saying it's...hypocritical.
On Freedom: "When people talk of the freedom of writing, speaking, or thinking, I cannot choose but laugh. No such thing ever existed. No such thing now exists; but I hope it will exist." John Adams (1735-1826)
Posted by The Liz at 3:19 PM 0 comments
Labels: News Watch
Keep it goin' full speed. I realize that my blog is starting to be a bit redundant, but fuck it I'm redundantly pissed. So whenever I come across anyone who's saying what I've been saying but has had the foresight to share their views with the masses (extra points for humor), I have to share with my adoring public of....two people. Anywho, today's installment is courtesy of Tatsuya Ishida. But first, a little in your face humor.
More news:
· Slim Fast hires Dick Cheney as new spokesperson. "Go fuck yourself. Big time," reads new slogan.
· Weapons of mass destruction finally found in Iraq: Commercial airplanes.
· 9/11 Commission goes on book tour to promote its debut release. Critics pan the tome as a "failure of imagination."
· KFC chickens riot, capture Colonel Sanders and threaten to behead him unless all their brothers and sisters are liberated. Company officials blame the movie Chicken Run.
· Gay mafia leaves a decapitated head of a French poodle in George Bush's bed. Commander in chief vows to smoke out the anal-doers and rid the world of gayness.
· John Ashcroft makes surprise visit to Urban League, introduces himself as "J. Ash," performs hip hop version of his classic hit single "Let the motherfuckin' eagle soar."
· Terror color chart changed to black and white to better reflect administration policy.
· Latest conspiracy theory contends that a shadowy cabal known as the Bulliminati is covertly fattening up Americans with misleading nutrition information to usher in a Fat World Order.
Posted by The Liz at 1:19 PM 0 comments
Sunday, July 25, 2004
I am now a central part. This is frigging phenomenal. Just...just...swell. It combines my favorite "Men are dumb" rift with "Men are really really dumb" along with a side of "At least some of us know we're dumb and are, consequently, endearing."
I am nothing if not complicated.
Posted by The Liz at 2:55 PM 0 comments
Tuesday, July 20, 2004
Keep turning me on with those French words I can't pronounce. Dudes, check out my horoscope courtesy of The Onion. I totally rule!
"Sagittarius: (Nov. 22—Dec. 21)
Scholars have decided that you probably don't exist at all, and are just a composite character based on several minor figures from the writings of George Sand."
Wait, I don't even like George Sand. This blows.
Posted by The Liz at 1:22 PM 0 comments
Sunday, July 18, 2004
Feels like I've been run over in traffic. Alright, seriously, there are too many things to hate our current administration for. Just too fucking many. I'm losing count here to the extent that my outrage is going to manifest itself into a separate being known as "Lage" that spits fire every time it reads the paper and walks up to elected officials and starts pulling off limbs and ripping off other vital organs. Raaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrr! All fear the Lage..... AAAAAHHHH!!! Run for your lives! We are conservative and evil and hell bent on undoing civil rights, freedom of speech, national security and even elections! She'll kill us aaaaaaaaallllllll!!!
But, because I can't do any of that (yet), I have the Daily Show. Take it away, Jonny.
In response to the failed (for now, keep an eye out, bitches) gay marriage amendment:
-Senator [Santorum], what will happen if gays are allowed to marry?
-A break-down of the family, children being born out of wedlock, and communities and cultures in decay.... I would argue the future of America hangs in the balance because the future of the American family hangs in the balance.
-So gay marriage will lead to children being born out of wedlock? How is sodomy that powerful? Let me ask you this. Does the union of penis and ass set off some kind of genital wonder-twin activation that emits some kind of community-decaying ray?
In response to Tom Ridge's dubious claims of an election day terrorist attack:
-So to sum up...be afraid enough not to vote for John Kerry, but not so afraid as to not vote for President Bush.
In response to the army hiring more musicians for army funerals:
-So let me get this straight. The army, confronted with the fact that it doesn't have enough musicians to play at all the soldiers' funerals, looks at that problem and comes up with this solution: Hire more musicians. You know, I'm not a military man, but it seems to me that those guys might want to start thinking outside the coffin on this one. Maybe less dead people.
In response to the Iraqi "prime minister" signing a bill allowing his government to impose marshall law in case of an emergency:
-Great, we faught a war to bring Iraq deomcracy, and the first thing they're doing with it is declaring marhall law. This was really worth it.
Stand up and take notice, losers. We're all going down the crapper one by one. So you'd better stand the fuck up and do something about it. Now.
Posted by The Liz at 4:54 PM 0 comments
Wednesday, July 14, 2004
I want to be your illusion. I thought that Beni Benassi was the only appropriate title for this little entry, courtesy of the inimitable Dan Savage. In response to one mysogynist's desire for abnormally ginormous breasts, Monsieur Savage had this to say:
The sudden appearance of women with ridiculously huge boob implants was arousing in part because of its shock value. There was the shock of women with such exaggerated racks, of course, but there was also the more important—and, sadly, the infinitely more arousing—shock of women finding a novel new way to imperil their health in order to attract the attention of men. Men have always found it arousing when women go to bizarre extremes, including self-mutilation (bound feet) and self-torture (high heels), to make themselves more attractive, and enormoboobs were extreme in the extreme. That enormoboobs played into the deeply ingrained and thoroughly eroticized misogyny that plagues all human cultures to varying degrees was lost on most men. (Let's not be too relativist about this: I'm sure most women would prefer to live in a culture that allows women who want to have enormoboobs to go and get them over, say, a culture that compels all women to have their clits cut off.)
It always makes me happy when someone infinitely more influential than me has the balls to point this shit out.
Posted by The Liz at 11:51 AM 0 comments
Labels: Feminism
Tuesday, July 13, 2004
Do the kind of stuff that only Prince would sing about. There hasn't been enough artwork on my blog lately. I think this is so crude and so strange that it simply screams "Post me! I speak from your soul!"
Anyone know where I can get a steak-cookin' sex slave? My dry spell is running up quite a phone bill over here.
Posted by The Liz at 1:33 PM 0 comments
Labels: Lurve
Sunday, July 11, 2004
Somebody told me. Finally, someone says exactly what I've been thinking all about the current pop "alterna-rock" scene. It's beyond strange to be out of the country for six months and suddenly be plopped down into the current music scene which sometimes sounds likes an untalented nerd covering The Strokes on a delapidated casio keyboard. At least The A.V. Club sees it from my perspective:
Music in general—-and pop music in the accelerated media culture of the post-WWII world in particular—-is a synthetic art that involves refining and reviving bits of the past in the push toward the future. But what happens when the urge to imitate and build off the past that gives rise to The White Stripes or Jurassic 5 or Elvis Presley gets imitated itself?
Thanks, man.
Posted by The Liz at 12:25 PM 0 comments
Labels: Pop that culture
Thursday, July 08, 2004
Stop playin' keep movin'. So if you aren't familiar with The Stranger, you need to be. Now. They've recently added a very fun forum called "Lovelab" which features all sorts of goodies such as advice and interviews for those of us too preoccupied with sex for our own good. So I just read this gem from the "Knickers in a Twist" column about two women who've put out a woman-centric porn mag a la Playboy, only not crappy and stupid. One of the editors, Micole Taggart, gave this little piece of advice for all you straight men out there which I thought was actually quite simple and cogent: "Men are so different that general advice is not for everyone. But if you turn [on] a woman, she will always be coming back for more!" Awesome.
Also, this was fucking hysterical. It's rude, it's crude, and thus it belongs on my blog underneath the big nekked Man Ray photo.
"Lippy Imp: All right, let’s get right down to it. What makes for an attractive cock?
Robin Adams: A nice shape, size, color, attentiveness.
Micole Taggart: A clean, smooth cock with a lot of character in the hang. I like strong heads!"
Rock.
To pass the time while I'm on night duty, I re-read some of my old posts from my time in France, and goodness have I changed. I feel a ton more together, more confident, and even (dare I say it) more mature. Well, score one for me, I say. I win at life again!
Posted by The Liz at 4:52 PM 0 comments
Wednesday, July 07, 2004
We're about ready to rock-steady. The roomie, even though she's across the sea, knows exactly what to say:
"Rock what makes you feel good. I've never said anything differently. If that's "flirt flirt flirt," then for fuck's sake, what the hell are you waiting for?! FLIRT, damn you, flirt like you've never flirted before!!!"
And it's on. Oh yes my friends. It's on.
Posted by The Liz at 2:38 PM 0 comments
Make them apologize. Check out this little gem from Newsweek about the "new" infidelity.
Why is it that when women do something men have been doing since the dawn of time, there has to be an entire edition of a prominent national magazine dedicated to it? They did the same thing when the number of women working out of the home increased. Pretty soon you're gonna have an entire issue of Time dedicated to "Exclusive: Number of women who poop on the rise. Could they be rivaling men in excrement-production?" They'll get a bunch of experts talking about how the increased education and financial power of modern American women allows them to shit with reckless abandon.
It's not just opportunity that fuels the impulse to be unfaithful; it's money and power as well. American women are better educated than they've ever been. A quarter of them earn more money than their husbands. A paycheck and a 401(k) don't guarantee that a woman will stray, but if she does, they minimize the fallout both for her and for her children. The feminist Gloria Steinem once said, "Most women are one man away from welfare," but she recently amplified her views to NEWSWEEK: "Being able to support oneself allows one to choose a marriage out of love and not just economic dependence. It also allows one to risk that marriage." In other words, as women grow more powerful, they're more likely to feel, as men traditionally have, that they deserve a little bit of nooky at the end (or in the middle) of a long, busy day.
Ew. Just....just ew.
Posted by The Liz at 1:56 PM 0 comments
Labels: Feminism