I have already fallen in love with Michelle Bachman, the Tea Party candidate for the Republican party in the presidential campaign. Her disregard for facts, including American history (e.g., our Founding Fathers ended slavery), and her inability to speak in sentences are somehow captivating. But now I have found another reason to love this lunatic: her husband is gay! The proof is that he is a “doctor” performing ex-gay therapy, and he’s as queenie as Liberace. Plus, he’s received over $100,000 in Medicare payments for his therapeutic services. Can’t wait til one of his male sexual partners spills the beans.
I have no interest in watching sports (well, except tennis) and even less interest to get near to a large stadium. Yet, viewed in photos, I can see how there can be some hot moments in the sporting life.
Raise high the lumber, ye Northwest lumberjack fans, particularly the shirtless, inter-racial couples!
Amish man sends 600 texts, nude photos, and video sent to 12 year old girl. According to authorities, “the proposed sex act would happen inside the buggy.” God bless America and technology. (via ErictheFez).
Can you reject evolution and still embrace plastic surgery? Certainly these are the right people to answer this “difficult” question.
As I’ve joked before, Tokyo has more than its share of strange building names, which seem to only increase in senselessness with the poshness of the neighborhood. I’ve ridiculed Movements, Zesty Minami-Koenji, Decent, and one of my favorites Cram Place.
This is a lovely modern apartment tower, lots of exterior raw concrete, beautiful balconies and views, a kindergarden on the ground floor, near good restaurants and mature trees, a place I would love to live in.
Yet, passing that name every day would be too much, right? “Selfista” reminds me of too English words: selfish, and self-fister which sounds like the master of an extreme sexual practice.
I try to ignore most Japanese ladies fashion, particularly any clothes worn by anyone younger than 60. Young girls wearing belts or long shirts instead of skirts, famished waifs, and lollicon (Lollita complex) jailbait are all things I’ve learned to ignore.
This billboard in posh Aoyama made me stop and wonder. Ayumi Hamasaki is a very popular, youngish J-pop singer. Do large numbers of men and dykes enjoy looking at robotic ladies impersonating spooky aliens staring at us from the future?
Hamasaki-san’s “love songs” are all the more uncanny perched above a fading 1960s building with the exotic and upscale name of Aix-en Provence. Like a dying flower, this fantasy mix of future and past reminds that beauty and riches fade fast and leave their temporary marks on our awareness.
One-piece wonders. Love the jump suit tucked into rubber boots. And the purse-shaped handbag casually slung over the shoulder. I swoon just remembering this apparition.
The only way to improve this look would be the adorable “dirty labor” white boots worn by butchers, ramen shop cooks, cleaning crews, and the like.
On Yamate Dori between Nakano and Shibuya under an elevated freeway.
This is a verbatim reading, with Glee’s hot, track suit uniformed coach Jane Lynch. (via JoeMyGod).
Few things are more moe than gymnastics. But if you add a daddy, a bandage, and some sick hair, well, you truly deserve the gold medal, Kohei Uchimura.
It’s remarkable how a Google image search for “anthony weiner twitter” produces such a rich set of visuals that tells more than enough: vanity, tears, arrogance, underpants, wife, user-generated content, hairless muscular chest, high school photo, the american flag. Of course he’s now finally heading for therapy and its inevitable political outcome, rehab. Godspeed, Mr Weiner, and thank you and Google for making our world more louche and understandable.