Where’s that reality show, MTV? Let’s inspire the youth of the nation, instead of making them believe if they’re sixteen a pregz they can get a tv show and make money off being an F-list celebrity magazine star.
Check out this video of Tavi Gevinson giving a TED Talk on “figuring it all out” as a teen girl.
What a smart, cool kid. These websites, thestylerookie.com and RookieMag.com, are awesome and makes me jealous they weren’t around when I was a teen. Being a teen sucks, but having a place other than the regular psychotic teen mags (Seventeen, Cosmo, etc) to read about growing up and “figuring it out” is pretty rad.
I never hear people talking about strawberry pie. Well, I’m here to tell you it’s awesome. Dab a little whipped cream on top of that baby and you’ve got yourself an awesome dessert. For Easter, my ma made a strawberry pie with jello that is a little different than straight up strawberry sauce and maybe a bit lighter as well. Here’s a recipe if you’re feeling pie-happy.
I love celebrity stalkers. As I sit here trying to define what a stalker really is, I land on this:
Thanks, internet, you punk.
Anyways, Alec Baldwin has a French-Canadian actress stalking him. My first though was “what a strange nationality to be a stalker.” Normally it’s some hairy person from New Jersey or an astronaut lady wearing a diaper so she can drive cross country without stopping. How does one go from “Hello, nice to meet you” to “I’m getting a restraining order. You’ve gone through my trash for a week now. I’m calling the police.“?
"Girl, you cray." -Alec Baldwin. Image via foxnews.com
Stalkers can come in four flavors: Rejected Stalker, Resentful Stalker, Intimacy Seeker, Incompetent Suitor and Predatory. If had to choose a stalker, I’d choose Rejected. They’re the ones like an ex-husband that won’t leave you alone, as opposed to Predatory where they’ll probably cut your face off and try it on in the mirror.
I realize stalkers are no joke. However, I find it hilarious that people actually stalk. It’s more like just sheer determination to not take very obvious hints. I’m sure they don’t think they’re being a stalker, otherwise they probably wouldn’t do it if they had that realization.
I’d chalk it up to “pretty famous” as the reason for your stalker, Alec. It happens to the best of ’em. I too hope that one day I have a harmless stalker. That means you’ve really made it.
We should seriously make all the old people we know watch this before they get a Facebook. They don’t need to know it wasn’t invented in the 90s. Then they’ll watch The Social Network and be all “hey, what gives!” and we’ll be like “payback for Santa Claus, suckas.”
I love the way she says "pitchure" for "picture." Genius. Image via firebellymarketing.com
Fuck dating is a recurring column written by many anonymous and fabulous 20 somethings
Isn’t it fun when you’re about to go on a date with someone and they get a girlfriend in between you texting and figuring out when would be a good time to meet up?!
In all honesty, it’s nice that this person found someone. I’m always game for true love in other people’s lives. Maybe. Because who “finds a girlfriend” or even a person you want to watch Netflix with (it’s a serious deal) in less than a week’s time? Hopefully not many people in their 20s are still trying to mate this way.
*Sends over a note written on a gas station receipt for 5 Hour Energy and a single roll of toilet paper*
“Will u be my gf? Y or N or DTF.”
A little different than our elementary dating days relaying messages through an intricate network of school friends in the cafeteria, but with the same essence and beauty behind each letter.
Image via topnews.in
I mean come on. You can’t even make a real friend in a week. That shit takes time. You gotta meet, meet again, meet another time, then meet alone, get drunk, share a humiliating story, eat a whole bag of Cheetos and then hate yourselves together, cry in public and embarrass everyone you’re with, turn the water on for your friend in that bathroom when they get pee shy, steal from them, etc. After all of that, I think you can call someone your friend. Doesn’t that list double or triple before you can call someone your girlfriend or boyfriend?
Different strokes for different folks. All I know is relationships are hard, weird, fun and exciting. But not taking any time to expertly choose your new love adventure is what kids do in between smelling each others dirty fingers at recess and guessing what the smell is. Are you gonna be that kid on the playground that will smell anyone’s dirty fingers, or will you hold out for a smell you never dreamed could exist? Only time will tell my friends. Only time will tell.
Farewell Santy. You were a greatly written character during the Republican race for the White House: Back to White America. Much more memorable than all the other people I’ve already forgotten about. Wait, Gingrich was pretty cray cray. He’ll probably be back for Road Rules: Republican candidates get wild in Cabo San Lucas. I’d actually like to be on that show. Can you imagine the things that would be flying out of those mouths after 2 shots of Bacardi Razz? If only. Let’s remember the good times we had with Santorum, and then forget him forever.
Pretending he knows anything about the medical profession. Playing Operation doesn’t really give anyone the credentials to make serious medical decisions for millions of people, and neither does being a Christian or a politician, jerkface.
For a while, his campaign was afoot with death, sex and abortion, which made him look like a sick fetishist. That was fun I guess.
He thinks it’s wrong to have sex for pleasure. Why you just take our Netflix, chocolate and Chipotle burritos away from us too, asswipe!
"Bambi's first year" by Thomas Kinkade. Image via piersidegallery.com
I’ve never really thought much about Thomas Kinkade. It’s a familiar name that people know and probably associate with houses in the snow with carriages and lots of brick. Pleasant-y things, but never an actual portrait that comes to mind because they are all just pleasing enough to passively look at.
As I was looking through his art, I came across these Disney portraits he did. They kind of look like a mix between the beloved cartoon we all grew up with and something you might find at a Spencer’s Gifts. You know, the felt posters that glow in the dark with a lingering incense aroma and the ever present feeling that a 13 year old redheaded boy staring at you. Who knew Spencer’s Gifts and Thomas Kinkade portraits would have so much in common.
2PF 