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The health poster of Bruce Algra are totally hot aren't they? The colors are unexpected. The layouts represent some of the strongest elements of late 1980's graphic design. The hair on 'Alcohol' is chic. And 'Cocaine' has the cutest smile.
Get yours.
Channels are flipping in response to disparate numbers being punched into the remote. The number 5 yields Randy Jackson of American Idol addressing an unfortunately dressed, not unattractive guy wearing an incredibly unfortunate hat:
"Man, you did great. You added your originality to that song. You did things that Jamiroquai never did. Things if he saw you doing them probably wishes he did."
The voice inside beckons, "let it slide," but this Jackson character is supposed to be in the industry and surely should know that Jamiroquai is a band and not a man. Surely he knows that the band is not an eponym of its lead singer, whose name is Jason Kay, by the way. And although they are not the hugest of groups in the world and although it is not as bad as a young Avril Lavigne mispronouncing the name "David Bowie" on a Grammy Awards stage, it is an indication of the status of American pop culture.
The next remote button is "System Power".
Then iTunes is started in concert with LastFM of course).
And Hot Chip and Ratatat are played.
"Oh, Rod. I just love that little tummy you've been growing this winter."
Photo credit.
~ABC Home and Carpet window display. The chandelier on the floor is assumed to be not on purpose.
Has it really been fifteen years since the classic Schmitt's Gay ad spoof first came out to Saturday Night Live viewers? Yes, yes it has. A key factor of the video still working is that the actor's aren't portraying minstels, e.g., Jay Manuel. Instead they are portraying "real guys" who just happen to be gay.
En route to the Armory art show there was a reminder to why acrophobia is not necessarily a bad trait. From a distance the building, although looking a bit hardscrabble in comparison to it's neighboors, may not catch the eye. But when the terraces at 54th and 11th are more closely seen, it is obvious that the wood in place is not for decoration, but instead for repair.
Terrifying.
Closeup shot after the jump.
(Title via the lovely Miss AR.)
Continue reading "So much for the "Jumping Up and Down" party" »
And Adriana Barraza.
And Rinko Kikuchi
And my left testicle smells like honeysuckle.
Waking up naked on the sofa, the eyes flash around. Terrence Trent D'Arby filters in from the bedroom alarm clock, ignored and unheard now for almost three hours. And it's Friday. A work day. And an intense one at that.
Fifteen minutes to shower, dress, exit. On the subway review phone. Realize drunk dialing and texting. Recall the previous evening. Margaritas at El Cantineiro. Scotch at Phoenix. What was for dinner? Oh no. Didn't eat. Head is pounding.
This hangover is resistant and persistent. Would love to vomit, but can't. Plus those office rumors of anorexia.
Why? Why?
Is it an aging thing?
A quitting smoking thing?
Fuck. Now I'm writing like Rosie.
Just a little news. I've started a (hopefully regular) writing gig over at Gawker. Bridge And Tunnel O.D. At Tunnel is the first installment of Past,Over. I hope you enjoy it.
I've repeated it here after the jump.
