Wednesday, September 30, 2009

Sunday, September 27, 2009

Dig that jacket

Adolescent Denzel for the win. I'd pay large sums of money for that houndstooth.

Saturday, September 26, 2009

Tuesday, September 22, 2009

Dear ESPN, I hate you.

It's hard to put into words just how much I don't care what John Kruk thinks about anything. Not just baseball. Anything at all. Let me be explicit, just in case it's not clear: I don't care what John Kruk thinks about anything.

I love baseball and I can't watch a TV show called "Baseball Tonight" because it is so aggressively shitty that it's unwatchable. Is anyone sitting around wondering what Fernando Tatis thinks of the Dodger's post-season chances? No. The answer to that question is no. He's too stupid and too bland for anything remotely interesting to come out of his mouth.

End rant. But please enjoy this lovely umbrella with my compliments.

Monday, September 21, 2009

Día de los Muertos

If you want me to absolutely click the hell out of a link what you need to do is entice me with something like "Macabre Mexican Art". I will clicky-clicky that link up, down and all around. I will click that link like there's no tomorrow. Well done, Telegraph UK. God bless you, weird Mexican artists. What's more awesome than skeletons in sombreros? Absolutely nothing. Look at that horse! Sheer genius . . .

Friday, September 18, 2009

I'm trying to eat here, man.

I went to a conference today that dealt with autopsies (don't ask). As we were eating lunch, without warning, the guy put up a full color picture of a body, mid-autopsy. A giant picture of a body split open like a goddamn Christmas goose. That was bad enough. Then they moved on to the baby autopsy pictures. Good Lord. But he also showed a picture of a big hairy guy in lingerie that had accidentally hanged himself whilst masturbating. Which is the worst way to go. There's going out in a blaze of glory with your boots on, and there's going out wearing lingerie while doing the whacka-whacka. You suck at dying, brother.

Overall, it was a pretty odd way to spend two hours on a Friday afternoon.

Oh, that's a picture of my new pickup. I don't actually have any autopsy pictures in my personal collection.

Truer words were never spoken. . .