Reader, file this under WTF?! Billy Corgan from the Smashing Pumpkins is dating Tila Tequila? I cannot get this through my mind grapes.
The enchanting Sarah Haskin is back with another episode of Target Women, and this time her sights are set on the fast food advertising douchebaggery of Carl's Jr. Love!
This is so fucking rad. Got to there.
On the opposite end of the radness spectrum is this piece of turd news that the Army is pressuring doctors to not diagnose PTSD. O, epic epic FAIL. Are there not sufficient numbers of civilians freaking out and committing random murder/suicides? Must we expand the pool of traumatized Americans to include those with weaponry experience? Professional Critic is aggrieved.
By this, too: the stupidest marketing campaign I have ever seen, for the idiotically named Fling chocolate bar. My eyes are rolling around so much I have given myself a headache.
Showing posts with label Target Women. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Target Women. Show all posts
Wednesday, April 08, 2009
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Devirginized Commenter
Sarah Haskins, I continue my one woman lovefest for you with the latest installment of Target Women: Skin Care.
Drat, reader. Embedding isn't working so to see this, go here.
Reader, weep. I was planning to keep this post light today in preparation for the second part of Outsourcing Clinical Drug Trials that I plan to subject you to later this week but I have become seriously bummed out by a comments thread on Jezebel. As you may know, I am a daily reader of the bloggers' smart, sparkly, feminist posts. But this nubbin which briefly mentioned Ryan Seacrest's maybe-gayness being escalated to possibly-def-gayness at the Oscars unleashed a stream of comments I found incredibly disturbing. The comments, which I'm chalking up to young, urban-dwelling fabulous provincialism, were all of the "what's the big deal, it's private" and trended toward such hostility to the idea that sexual orientation was anybody else's business I had to get all 70s feminist with a "the personal is political" comment.
I think it will be great day when folks are as unimpressed by queerness as they are by heterosexuality. But as evidenced by the recent victory of Prop 8 in California and multiple other anti-gay measures in other states, we're still a distance from that day. And celebrities, even icky ones like Seacrest, by virtue of their mad dollars and fame, are sheltered from the most brutal homophobia and for better or worse, likely to touch the most lives, are perfectly positioned to come out.
/rant over.
Pandora's been telling me about Iron and Wine. This wasn't the song I was thinking of but I became mesmerized by the flamenco dancers' strong arms, beautifully expressive hands and ultra-shiny hair. It's Boy with a Coin:
This the song I heard on Pandora, Naked As We Came
Drat, reader. Embedding isn't working so to see this, go here.
Reader, weep. I was planning to keep this post light today in preparation for the second part of Outsourcing Clinical Drug Trials that I plan to subject you to later this week but I have become seriously bummed out by a comments thread on Jezebel. As you may know, I am a daily reader of the bloggers' smart, sparkly, feminist posts. But this nubbin which briefly mentioned Ryan Seacrest's maybe-gayness being escalated to possibly-def-gayness at the Oscars unleashed a stream of comments I found incredibly disturbing. The comments, which I'm chalking up to young, urban-dwelling fabulous provincialism, were all of the "what's the big deal, it's private" and trended toward such hostility to the idea that sexual orientation was anybody else's business I had to get all 70s feminist with a "the personal is political" comment.
I think it will be great day when folks are as unimpressed by queerness as they are by heterosexuality. But as evidenced by the recent victory of Prop 8 in California and multiple other anti-gay measures in other states, we're still a distance from that day. And celebrities, even icky ones like Seacrest, by virtue of their mad dollars and fame, are sheltered from the most brutal homophobia and for better or worse, likely to touch the most lives, are perfectly positioned to come out.
/rant over.
Pandora's been telling me about Iron and Wine. This wasn't the song I was thinking of but I became mesmerized by the flamenco dancers' strong arms, beautifully expressive hands and ultra-shiny hair. It's Boy with a Coin:
This the song I heard on Pandora, Naked As We Came
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