Thursday, February 24, 2011


I'm glad the "week of Watson" is over on Jeopardy... Between you and I, that guy was a know-it-all (and a grade-A dick).

~sarah p.

p.s. I am positive I've never seen Trebek as annoyed as he was last week, and do you blame the guy? 27 years on the show and he's getting sass-back from a fucking computer in front of a live audience. Dear, dear. Poor Alex.

Wednesday, February 23, 2011

Open-mind/Open heart.

At first I was really confused when I couldn't take this song off of replay. Usually, if it doesn't involve child/Southern/gangsta rap, disco, funk, 80's pop, or corny-ass R&B, I leave it alone.
Beth Ditto and Simian Mobile Disco? Nooooo thank you.
However, due to a magical little thing called "the internet", I get exposed to a lot of stuff that I would otherwise leave to the wayside... I have seen a lot of things I will never unsee, and hear a lot of things I will never unhear (I heard the entire Kingdom Come album, leaked online, a few years back, and it wrecked my faith in Jay-Z forever... Do you know how that feels? Do you???).
One in a while, though, it pans out in my favor.
Really, once I calm the fuck down and break it into simpler terms, this song has everything I like rolled into one:
Lasers? Check.
Distinct heart-thump sounds in the background? Chiggety-check.
Also, there's some sort of (rather controversial) theory I've been working on for a few years that directly correlates weight gain to musical talent. Think about it. Open up your mind, throw your politically correct beliefs aside for a moment, keep that a-hole from Smashmouth and any of Rosie O'Donnell's attempts at Broadway out of your thoughts, and really think about it. See? Totally right.

Anyway, new Beth Ditto EP? Totally worth a listen!
Not gonna lie, I still feel a little dirty saying that... Maybe also check out Slave's Bad Enuff album to make me feel better... Solid gold, I promise.

~sarah p.

Sunday, February 13, 2011

Gentleman's Choice.

Let's talk, guys.
Flannel shirt, slim jeans, Vans. The outfit of choice for 70% of the young male population right now.
This is fine, I guess, so long as the whole setup is well-fit and kept tidy (psssst- it's almost never kept tidy).
Dudes nowadays walk around with hot sauce and dirt on their pants and an ill-fitting, raggedy old plaid top (and don't think for a second that I don't notice when you are using a shoelace for a belt).

I know I've said this before, but it is time for guys to step their game up. Gentlemen, here are a couple of looks to consider on your next trip to the mall:

Rich Dick

Scott Disick is a rather smug character. He is banging one of the Kardashians (doesn't matter which one). It's uncertain of how he is currently supporting himself, and I am pretty positive that little baby of his is a real-life troll. Also, his last name is actually two letters away from the word 'dick', and that can't just be by coincidence!

There is, however, one thing I know for sure- just by looking at the guy, you can tell that he is filthy, powerfully rich. He might spit on you if you burnt his toast, and he would probably throw a fit if you stood to close to him or looked in his direction, but he quite obviously has the means to treat a lady right, if you catch my drift.

Kanye is another fabulous example of this look. Now, I like Kanye a whole bunch (much more so when his mouth is closed), but he's bossy and abrasive and corny, and his outfits are perfect every day. His mouth may be spewing all sorts of verbal diarrhea through a vocoder, but his clothes are screaming "yo, I could buy and sell your ass"!

He makes a 9th grade sewing class patch-project look like a million bucks, which is good, because he is probably also carrying a million dollars in his pocket, literally.

I know you're asking yourself a few questions:

What is the Rich Dick equivalent to plaid shirt/slim jeans/Vans combo?
Why, it's the gold watch/collared shirt/another gold watch combo, of course.

Is it practical?

Hellllll no. Now go get me a Perrier and mop my forehead. I think I'm starting to sweat.

How do I pull off the Rich Dick look without breaking the bank?
Maybe a pyramid scheme would be a good idea. That, or start shoplifting from nice stores.

No? Not for you? How about another choice:


Something about all of the gang violence and racial tension of the early 1990's in South Central LA spawned one of the crispest, sharpest looks of all time.

Clean, pressed khakis, just the right balance of baggy and tight, tidy sneakers, and hair that looked like it took hours to perfect. These guys knew it was a good idea, nay, their duty, to iron their clothing before leaving the house.

I can see that you're hesitant. Why don't I help you out again:

What is the G-Funk equivalent to the plaid shirt/slim jeans/and Vans combo?
Bandana (in the appropriate gang color)/Chuck Taylors/pocket full of weed combo.

Is it practical?
Depends... Do you own an iron and know how to pack heat?

How do I pull off the G-Funk look without breaking the bank?
I suggest you drive around Compton in the spring looking for yard sales.

Looking for something a little more "easy-fit"? Here are a few hot looks to keep you cool this summer:

Sunday Brunch With Grandma

Just Raided The Dumpster Behind Dwayne Wayne's House

V-Neck Parade

Effeminate, Low-Ranking Turkish Mafia Member

Fashion is a social agreement. The result of a consensus of a large group of people. - Stella Blum
Really, guys, I think we've evolved from the "just make sure I'm wearing a clean shirt" mentality- let's agree to try something new this year. Please?

Fashionably Yours,
~sarah p.

Monday, February 07, 2011

Have We No Shame Anymore? (a photo series)

You can dress it up however you like, you can't mask the fact that you're hawking poop-catchers with these ads. Stripped down, these commercials, respectively, represent a bear with filthy bear toilet paper stuck on his gross bear ass, and a high-stakes shitting contest. Come on now. Have we no shame anymore?

~sarah p.

p.s. You know what else sounds terrible and disgusting to me? Sticky buns.
Uh. Just call them sweet-rolls and be over with it, sickos.
Asses and pastries should never be used in the same sentence. Rule of thumb.