The Return Of Teh Awesome

Why yes, that is an awesomely nerdy gingerbread house.  And, indeed, the gummy bears were used exquisitely.

Late Xmas Edition

Check out 3:15 for an awesome Grinch smile, followed by Tay waxing theoretical about how the Grinch is really the personification of “hard times” and the song is about telling said hard times off.  Or something like that - I got lost in his voice part of the way through.

Merry Christmas!

Happy Holidays, you punks.

Listen, wash, repeat.  Washing optional, drinking is mandatory.

But wait, there’s more!

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Just a little bit late.

The Zombie Kitten Apocalypse, cute or not cute?

Adorableness includes: moustaches, big heads, Thriller dancing.

Disturbingness includes: kitten suicide, innards, maggots.

I am going with cute.  I think?

via Laughing Squid

Childhood Memories

I was born in Buffalo, but moved to Florida the summer I was 8.  One summer a year to two later, the family loaded into our mustard yellow 70’s edition Volvo and drove (DROVE!) back to Buffalo for a visit.  Somewhere in the Carolinas, my dad pulled into a gas station and, when he came back from paying (no pay-at-the-pump!), he returned with a tape: 20 of  Hank Williams’ Greatest Hits.  Of course I had a Walkman and of course I listened to Greatest Hits, and only Greatest Hits, the way there and back.  My parents cursed the name Kaw-Liga by the end.  Anyhow, sparklefarts for Hank, y’all!

The Bale in black.

Of course this story comes out of Florida.

It’s a story as old as time - man meets woman, woman gives man sliced bread, man wants a roll, woman slaps man upside the head with meat.  Ah, young love.  Elsie Egan, of Dunnellon, Florida, said (and I’m paraphrasing here) that if she hit the victim with meat, it was the meat of her fleshy palm.  Her reasoning was priceless.  Elsie Egan hit a disabled man “so that he could learn.”  Learn what, we may never know.  Leave your best bread-based guesses in the comments.  Watch out, though, she has been released on bond.  Remember to keep your roll-based preference to your damned self!

Come on, like YOU knew he had a girlfriend.

Gary Busey, actor, life coach, Twittering prophet, and his girlfriend Steffanie Sampson are expecting a baby boy and have been for 7 months.  Well, probably more like 6, since I doubt they knew IMMEDIATELY that Sampson was preggers.  Mazel and tov to the couple.  This is especially glorious given that Busey is 65 and he was able to hold back the crazy long enough to “do it.”  I am not ruling out immaculate conception, however.  Or the fact that “Luke,” as the couple has nicknamed the kid, may be the Kwisatz Haderach.  Anyhow, Access Hollywood made a pretty glaring mistake - let me know if it hurts your face, after the jump.

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Linky-loos you can use.

Rachel Maddow pwns Richard Cohen, whose book, Coming Out Straight, was cited in talks leading up to the Ugandan anti-gay/kill-the-homos legislation.  She is so full of win.  Shock and awe, Rachel, shake and bake.  Jezebel.

Gretchen Carlson: putting the Fauz in Faux News.  I mean you went to Stanford and didn’t know what “czar” meant?  LIAR! Humperdink, humperdink, humperdink!  Jezebel.

What do you get when Awesome and Win breed?  Jack Robbins.  (Sidenote: Susan Sarandon should teach classes on how to age gracefully.  Nic Kidman?  ur doin it rong.)  Celebitchy.

In spite of my rage I am still just… dating the dumbest person on the planet.  Jessica Simpson and Billy Corgan?!  Talk about melancholy and the infinite sadness.  Litely Salted.

Hamlet in Klingon.  Fierce and Nerdy.

Facebook is giving us more control over the shit we share on Facebook.  Seems like more false sense of security measures to me.   I saw Hackers.  Computers and computer nerds shall rule us all.  Just give me my brain chip so I can upload my thoughts directly to Facebook without all the pesky typing.  Gawker.

“You” are the “huge” tool.  Unnecessary Quotes.

5 things that gross women out.  Number one?  Moobs.  Tremendous News.

You know the phrase “it ain’t over ’til the fat lady sings?”  According to Miuccia Prada, the ladies slated to appear in the Met’s production of Verdi’s Attila were too fat to be singing, so they are being replaced with skinny ass models.  Prada is handling the costumes for the opera and none of the fatties could fit in her tiny sample sizes.  Couldn’t she just photoshop them?  Jezebel.

Whisper words of wisdom, let it squee!!

As an avid watcher of past civilization re-creation shows, I heart this.

Source: Laughing Squid.

Bale - #29, number 9, number 9, number 9.

*Due to oversight, John Lennon was not the originally posted Bale this morning.  Sorry squeeps!

Linky-loos you can use.

Ok, who is going to buy me a mini-piggy?  Because one of these fuckers needs to be bought, put in a walking harness, and given to me right ::stomps foot:: NOW.  Via Daily Candy.

Seriously, Sarah Palin chaps my ass.  She’s a hypocrite with a side of doosh.  First she claims that those who question Obama’s birth certificate have a point (are we seriously still talking about this Birther Bullshit?) but then takes to her Facebook page like some dildouchey teenager and says she never really said it at all.  Sarah? Please do us all a favor and consider dying in a fire. Thank you. Huffington Post.

IDK. LOL. WTF!?! FTW.  Lamebook.

Little Richard has always been insane - whoooooooooooooooooooooooo!  BoingBoing.

McG is ruining our lives.  He’s ruining the Terminator franchise which means he’s ruining Christian Bale’s life, and for that McG must die in a fire.  I hope Bill Murray pierces McG with a lance before McG kills us all.  We don’t need 6 mothertruckin’ Terminator movies!  Stop it!  STOPTHEMADNESS!  (See what I did there?)   Pajiba.

UAE has been experiencing a downturn in heretofore ever-expanding economy.  Their solution?  Giant. LED. Phallus.  Gizmodo.

Make sure you are current!  Here is a decade of hipster evolution so you know if you’re passe.  Paste.

Man, I loves me some Jason Segel.  And now he’s gone and stuck his fuckstick in no man’s land.  And by “no man’s land” I mean “Lindsay Lohan’s lady cavern.”   (Yes, it’s normally “ladyhole” but that seems semantically incorrect when one is talking about that dirty Hohan.  Silly squeeple; you thought I’d make a sapphic joke.  I’m bobbing and weaving, squeeps.  Expect the unexpected.)  Litely Salted.

Tiger Woods was spreading his seed hither and yon with as many as nine women. NINE TIMES.  NINE.  (That’s a Bueller reference for all you noobs and/or whippersnappers.)  The Superficial.

If Katy Perry and Russell Brand have kids, I am pretty sure they would create some super-beast of annoying-ness (uh-huh, so too a word).  All I am saying is, let’s hope there are no buns in said oven until 2012 is firmly passed.  I’m Not Obsessed.

Oh sweet Busey.

That's right. Steven Seagal.

After a long weekend of football, football and oh, some more football, NFL Guy and I snuggled up last night to catch up on the DVR.

And what we saw would make Jujubees jealous beyond all belief.

We had been dying to watch A&E’s new show, Steven Seagal: Lawman, but work has been in the way of our usual TV viewing, so we’d been narrow-eyed and envious as other New Orleanians tweeted about the sure-to-be-100%-awesome that is Seagal’s show.  In fact, local entertainment mag Gambit is even planning a watch party for this week’s episode.

Take a gander.

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Another victim of 2012.  Damn you, Mayans!

What does this ad look like it is selling?  Sex.  What is this ad actually selling?  A shitty reality tv show.  Part of me wants to sue for false advertising because Keeping Up With The Kardashians isn’t nearly as sexy or interesting as this ad is representing.  With an ad like this I expect a show giving us a sexy and interesting behind-the-scenes look at a brothel or strip club or show or something, not some boring-ass reality show about a boring-ass family.  F’reals, I feel cheated. 

But what I really wonder is how the Kardashians feel, because, let’s be honest, while other KUWTK ads have been sexy, and even prominently featured Kim’s ass, they haven’t been this, I don’t really know the word, sex-ad-ish?, before.  And the rest of the family is completely missing.  I think this ad is a sure sign that the network is feeling waning popularity and trying to compensate by amping up teh secksie.  I hope the fam has been saving some moolah because this, dear squeeps, is the beginning of the end.

Monday Kind of Bale

This is the first picture that came up when I googled “Bale Monday.”

Johnny Bale Miller

Oh.  The humanity.  Oh.

Can you believe what happened to poor Roman Polanski?  He is home today, suffering the ignominy of confinement to his Swiss chalet pending the ruling on his extradition!  Who knew the Swiss were such savages?  Clearly their main exports are chocolate, skiing and pain.  Can you imagine something as horrible as being forced to bide your time in a chalet with nothing outside your window but - yuck - mountains, snow and trees?  Can you imagine the terror he must feel trudging up to his grimy prison?  Whatever will he do?  Have dinner at home?  Host the parties and have friends over? Not ski?  I guess it teaches us all a lesson: rapists who have plead guilty get the same justice whether or not they are rich and famous.

It’s Friday.  You may have a job, but you ain’t got shit to do.