Udderly Stylish
The rather unfortunately named Udder is a collaboration of U.K. artists with a pretty high concentration of clever products. Give it a peek.
pinup
The rather unfortunately named Udder is a collaboration of U.K. artists with a pretty high concentration of clever products. Give it a peek.
These elaborate security window grills are an elegant solution to the one of the problems posed by first-floor windows.
This Star Wars spoof on Robot Chicken is hysterical. Gotta love Palpatine's jerk-off hand motion. Classic.
Oh, how precious! Evidently there are teensy-weensy little fairy doors dotting Ann Arbor, Michigan. I want a little fairy door! And some fairies. (The tiny little winged kind, not the kind marching in this past Sunday's pride parade.) (Thanks, Boing Boing.)
Hm. Videogames seem to be a hot topic these days. The Daily Show had a recent segment about the jackasses in Congress and their game-related fretting, and Steven Colbert has been hawking World of ColbertCraft on The Colbert Report. Both clips are highly entertaining.
Futurama is being resurrected! There will be at least 13 new episodes made for Comedy Central, complete with the original cast. Let the rejoicing begin!
Here's a good way to start the weekend: with a clip of some insane pranks played at some Japanese ski resort. It starts slowly, but trust me--it gets good.
Oh. My. God. You know you want a Yoda backpack, you Star Wars dorks.
You might not realize this, but I, the titular pinup, am also a copy ninja. Yes, I am one of the few, the noble, the righteous, the upholders of spelling, grammar, punctuation, and other such pillars of language. As a copy ninja, I must be ever-vigilant on my constant crusade. Hence the lack of recent posts. I'm too busy keeping the world safe from craptacular writing.
Evidently Seth MacFarlane gave this year's commencement speech at Harvard. (The audio and video are horribly out of sync, but it's awesome even if you just listen to it.) As I lamented before, why do those Harvard jerks get all the cool speakers? Bah.
This morning, while waiting to cross the street, I noticed a cab with an ad on top of it for the Hilton chain of hotels. I did an immediate double-take, because I thought it said The Hilton Family: Be Respectable. And that seemed pretty farfetched to me. Sure enough, when I squinted and read it again, I saw that it said The Hilton Family: Be Hospitable. That's more likely. They're nothing if not hospitable, from what I hear re: Paris and her welcoming vagina.
Oh yes. I remember what I wanted to say yesterday. Ann Coulter is a cunt.
So Blogger has been acting up for the past couple of days. (I actually did have something to say yesterday, but I forget what it was.) Hm. And it seems to be cranky today, too. I keep finding myself thinking that I should be reimbursed for the two days of craptacularity, but then I remember that I don't pay at all. And the world realigns.
Only this one is better than all of the others out there. A bold claim, you say, and I concur. But I can back it up: click on the song "Snakes on a Plane" and you will see why.
See, this is good design: These aprons are functional (they wipe clean!) and so fucking adorable. (Semi-expensive, unfortunately, too.) Obviously, I want one.
These limited-edition peacock chucks rock. Hard. (I don't care if some of you--you know who you are--think they're gaudy. The correct word is elaborate.) Some of the eyelet ones are cool, too. The pink gingham and argyle designs are nifty, too. And the houndstooth print is so fugly it's kinda neat. Oh, and I would so wear these every Christmas.
Have nothing entertaining to say. Feel crappy and cranky and was rather busy for much of the day. And had a dreadful headache. Screw you guys, I'm leaving.
Last week was rather busy at work, so I forgot to post what had really been the entertainment highlight of the week. As I was walking to work one morning, I passed some shoeless, bedreaded homeless guy (one of many) who was just waking up. He was chatting with his dog, let out a tremendous belch, and noticed me walking by. After exchanging the usual good morning–type pleasantries, he said: