This post is a thinly veiled excuse to make LOLart.

Once upon a time, I had a shitty, shitty boyfriend. He was in a band and those of you who have dated musicians feel me when I say he was an emotionally stunted jackass. Breakup time came and I fell into a slight depression (psychotic tailspin). So, in a histrionic act of "Why doesn't he just fuck his guitar if he likes it so much?" combined with "Who says Art History majors can't make art?" I created this painting:



If it looks like a guitar with boobs and a vadge, that's because it is. See, so he can have sex with it! YEAH! It's not a tasteful nude. After I was done, I was super embarrassed by it and I threw it out. Unfortunately, my mom dug it out of the trash. And because I was still playing cello at that point, Mom mistook Vagina Guitar Lady for a cello. A tasteful nude cello abstraction. Never mind that it has a weirdly blurry, yet single sound hole found on acoustic guitars rather than the f-holes (seriously, that's what they're called) that you find on a cello. Never mind that, hello, it was in the trash. Probably there for a reason. Mom actually took it in to have it expensively framed, and now it hangs in the front hall of their house, at the bottom of the stairs, where Mom points it out to dinner guests, and where I've had to look at it every time I come home for going on, oh, ten years now. My asshole ex-boyfriend's anthropomorphic, fuckable guitar. I still haven't been able to tell Mom what it really is:

Pageboys on Dudes: Who Wears it Best?

Happy Thursday! There's a new trend afoot and it doesn't involve visible ears! Which of these sexy sexpots rocks it best?

Javier Bardem in No Country For Old Men?



Or the Little Lad from the Starburst Berries n' Cream ads?

David Lynch says "fuck" a lot these days.

My love of David Lynch began retardedly early in life. It all started when, at age 10, I watched Blue Velvet with my family (Uncut. On Easter. Discuss.) and I was completely taken. In 9th grade English class I wrote a paper about Twin Peaks, in which I asserted that Lynch was re-defining the Horror genre through his use of lighting (though I probably didn't use the word "genre.") In my presentation, I made my classmates watch the scene in which the otherwordly killer, Bob, appears in a vision to Maddie while she's sitting with friends in a well-lit living room after singing a 50's-era rock n' roll ballad. He walks toward her in slow motion and climbs over the couch to get to her. I still contend that it was absolutely one of the most horrifying moments in film or T.V. Lighting changes everything, people.

Anyway, so no one got what the fuck I was on about and then in college, David Lynch came to give a talk and was forced into this Q&A session at the end, which he clearly abhorred. If you've seen his films, you can imagine how it went: "What was the meaning of Agent Cooper's vision of the ring in scene 8 of episode 3 in the second season?" He basically told everyone to shut the fuck up. I asked him something about how his films revisit the themes of good and evil, blah, blah, blah. He said "I have no idea what you're talking about." It was awesome.

If you follow such things, you'll know that Lynch has recently founded The David Lynch Foundation for Consciousness-Based Education and Peace, which supports transcendentalist meditation in classrooms. I'm not sure if it's in spite of his embrace of transcendentalism or because of it, or maybe because he's just becoming a crotchety old man, that he has been doing a lot of swearing, albeit succinct to-the-point swearing, to the media lately. Consider:



Also, this iPhone commercial spoof, based on a Q&A in Berlin (Q&A's put him in a seriously bad mood, obvs) featuring similar sentiment:

The Tattoo: Phase 2

We're making progress. Green, yellow, purple and pink progress. This took a while, and I thought I was doing really, really well handling the pain like a pro and making witty banter with Rocio. But after 2 and a half hours I started to notice I was saying things that made no sense. It was like having the bends, for you divers out there. I felt fine, but I clearly was not. Who knew the effects of an endorphin deficit mirror those of nitrogen narcosis? NOT ME! (Am I not making sense again?) Anyway, back to work.

Lost in translationseseseses.

After looking at this, I don't think I will trust any subtitled movie, ever again. Granted this is a translation of a translation (English --> Chinese --> English), but still. How does "premonition" become "pregnancy"? And why does the word "fuck" turn up so much? And where the hell did the reference to the Presbyterian Church come from?

Christmas 2007

I'm not a very good photographer, so I was excited this turned out so well. At the Christmas party for work, my charmingly inebriated co-worker crashed a pre-dinner opera performance of "Mama Mia"(no, fo realz). "Did I really do that?" he asks me. Yes. Yes, you did.