oh helllll to the no.
Leave a Comment
My neighbors are playing at full force a Kim Zolciak “Tardy for the Party” remix.
i hate them.
Leave a Comment
i once tried to give myself a labotomy…
Leave a Comment
…but then i blinked.
-J.
My Biopic
I have a new obsession. My sister Susan agrees with me that this obsession is perfectly normal. See, there is this movie called Precious which just inspires me.
Oh, not Precious Moments.
This is the Precious I was referring to.
While I actually have yet to have seen the movie, I know I already love it from the plot E.G. everything scary, everything horrific, everything grotesque and pathetic is incorporated in to the film.
Examples? Okay, lets take Precious, the lead character. She’s not fat. She is obscenely large. She inspired all the “yo mama’s so fat” jokes. Have you ever seen a human sharpei? No, well then see Precious.
Worse, Precious is pregnant. How can she even tell though?
Worse? She already has another kid.
Wait, did I say a kid. I meant 7 kids.
Worse? Her parents verbally abuse her.
WORSE?? Her parents physically and sexually abuse her.
WORSE??!! She is illiterate.
WORSE?!?!?! SHE HAS AIDS!!
okay, now at this point, I am just thinking that the director is some sort of masochist. or trying to become mother teresa 2.0 by reaching out to all the disenfranchised groups at once. its like when math textbooks tried blatantly hard to add diversity to their problems:
“if gloria hernandez gonzales and nygombe adowallee go to the their friend sergeii komurlvak for a a wonderful dinner of pierogis and boiled cabbage, and gloria and nygombe you eat two pounds of food, how many enchiladas will they consume at the after school salsa dance?”
my point, this is over kill. Precious needs to be narrowed down. How about a movie just about AIDS or just about fatties? But maybe it will be great to see so much tragedy in one film (aka, instead of seeing it in my own life).
I guess I will see Precious…but only after I see This Is It.
Playing for a limited time only, y’all.
-J.
dirty filthy dirt
enters shower stall. disrobes. signals with hand, the head, the chest, left shoulder, right shoulder.
once the water reaches the ideal temperature, you dunk your head into the shower head stream. peering into the run off water, swirling at the drain along with a bobby pin and some orphaned hairs, you reflect on the accumulated residue. it’s not quite that you are sad to see it go, but at least it functioned as some sort of time keeping tool. a sun dial of dirt, if you will.
push the nob to the off position. let the last drizzles fall from the spigot. you are clean. finally. a whole new week of dirt is ready and eager to layer itself on to you. like a parfait or sand art.
your clean flesh shivers. as soon as your door shuts, you dive into your bed. sheets and pillows and comforters fly through the air and slowly parachute themselves back to the mattress.
you burrow into the bed linens. they are already unmade- anticipating your post shower exhaustion. thank god this bi weekly process will not be required for another few days. but then, while laying in bed face up, with the covers mummifying you into submission, you realize that another shower may be sooner than later.
“my bed’s crumbs are stuck to me”
-J.
the origins of the cool
What is it about Asians that makes them all so perfect and cool and fashionable? Those who know me know that my semi-secret fantasy is to weave myself a chrysalis and emerge from it 5-6 months later as a full fledged Asian. If that is perverse for any reason, I am sorry. Anyway, let’s segway into the real point I am trying to make. So, even though I love each and every single Asian, this one is my very favorite. She is amazing.
Then I got it. I figured out her secret weapon.
It’s not her ethnicity (although, that certainly puts her at an advantage).
It’s the BOWL CUT! It really flatters every face shape-round, oval, lumpy, rotten. As someone who has hair bordering on bowl territory, I give the look high marks. Below are examples of the brave people who also sport the iconic do:
viva the bowl.
-J.
(via look who i met in new york
a new friend.
-J.
want
this.
only € 845.00 short.
i should stop spending all my milk money on vending machines.
-J.
The new new
Fashion revolves around subcultures of society. It makes fun of some, while embracing others.
We are all aware of Boho chic, popularized by paisley enveloped, Starbucks carrying, Doors listening waifs. The original Boho is slightly less glamorous.
The same is true for Hobo chic. While I for one see the brilliance in the disheveled, lice ridden rags sported by your favorite stoop inhabitant, most are unaware of the origins of the current “Hobo” look. Hint: Topshop flannels and Rick Owens’ cashmere, dry-clean only skullcap is not part of it.
Here at the Valor in Vagrancy we do not follow trends; we set them. Therefore, I shall unveil to you lucky readers the newest style inspiration of the season.
The leper.
How will this skin deteriorating bacterial disease be interpreted into an editorial look? Look like your body is falling apart. Articles of clothing should exude an air of decay and ruin. You should look bulgy, hinting at the pustules that lay beneath. No need to make the look more palatable; your accuracy to the model will lead you to fashionable perfection. Need examples? By all means, let me lead the way:
But to really take your efforts to the next step you really need to make you flesh look tumorous. S, L, and myself have put the trend into motion by getting friendship leper rings.
lookin good, ladies. lookin’ sick.
-J.
