Virtual Flaneurism

I watched this once and died laughing, then watched it again and died of discomfort.

You tell me.

I don't find Chris Colfer particularly attractive, but this is one hell of a picture.

Who put a music video in the middle of my 70's straight porn?

109 Cats in Sweaters

A tumblog that almost makes me obsolete.

The best countdown of the year: Top Animals That Don't Have Asses. An excerpt:

Perhaps the most intelligent animal that doesn’t have an ass, the Dolphin seems like it would probably have a sexy ass, due to its muscularly smooth [everything, it seems]. In 1994 Esquire was actually going to publish an unsolicited essay from [mid-list author with 3 novels from Knopf] about the 15 loveliest asses he’d seen on TV the past 6 months that earnestly included specific Dolphins from The Discovery Channel as #14 and #6, but a fact-checker rightly said that Dolphins don’t have asses and the managing editor sort of lost interest after that, not responding to [aforementioned author]’s follow-up emails for weeks, then months, then ever—apparently the managing editor simply never responded. I just typed “lol” then deleted it.

From Ben - and perhaps the most truthful thing ever posted to this blog.

EPIC.

Just watch this, and don't think too hard about it.

No chutzpah cat lacks chutzpah.

I have a slight, slight cold right now, and it has been destroying me inch by inch from the inside. Not so much by the sickness itself but by making me absolutely incapable of sleep. I've spent the last four nights writhing in bed until 4:30 or so in the morning, uncomfortable for no reason, only to finally delve into thirty to forty five minute long drags of sleep until my internal clock demands I wake up and watch the View at 11am.

Worse is the fact that these erratic chunks of sleep are muddied with ridiculous stress dreams -- ridiculous both because I am on vacation and therefore actually quite stress free, thank you, and also because of the bizarre and anti-thematic way - at least for life - they end up playing out. I spent a good chunk of last night trapped in a middle school drama club stress dream where I was unknowingly set to play Jud Fry in Oklahoma!, didn't learn the lines, and spent the entirety of the dream unsuccessfully googling the lyrics to Lonely Room and lamenting how embarrassed my mother must be that I KEEP MISSING MY ENTRANCES.

Nevermind the fact that I already spend all day trolling my computer, so further internet perusing in my dreams is so not welcome at this time.

Fuck you, cold germs. And fuck you, too, Rogers & Hammerstein. Lonely Room is a minor key romp of doom...and not what is in the following video.

This deserves a WTF.

Useful fact of the day.

Clearly he is no longer halfway there.

This woman needs to give Kim Zolziak the name of her wig dealer.