It's the 21st century, right? So where are my silver jumpsuit and my awesome boots and my cape? Why are we not wearing capes for every occasion, whether casual or formal? I'm ready. Science fiction, have you lied to me??
So I've been trying to sort out what the fuck it is with Ann Coulter: why do the right-wingers love her so much? I mean, sure, she's a racist, homophobic, right-wing hate-monger, and they like THAT, obviously. But, she is also tall, leggy, blonde, miniskirted tanned, thin, polished, painted, buffed, and waxed. Normally this sexbot look adds up, for dudes, to someone they want to just shut up and look good. But they seem to like it when she says stuff. A lot. But then Mearl, a commenter over at IBTP said, “There is almost no way to be Dude-Approved hawt and be taken seriously." And she is absolutely right.
I had a light-bulb moment. I haven’t been able to parse it before, but I think I’ve got it now: they really *don’t* take her seriously. She is popular to the right-wing dudes the way a monkey singing opera might be popular: it’s not what she’s saying, but the fact that she is *saying it at all*. It’s like, “Look! Barbie TALKS!!” They surely, to a man, don’t think she actually writes her own books or thinks her own thoughts.
2. Do yourself a favor and invest in the Benjamin Moore Aura low VOC (non-stinky) paint. I had to start with a coat of Kilz primer, which was brutally stinky, and then a coat of Aura, and it was like painting with heavy cream. Lovely. If you can't afford it right now, wait until you can. Worth every penny, especially when you consider it's truly one-coat coverage.
3. If I paint without a bandanna on my head, I get paint in my hair. If I wear a bandanna, I don't get any paint on my head at all.
4. Twelve years ago, I vowed never to paint behind a toilet again. Lesson learned? Never say never. I still hate painting behind the toilet.
5. Don't fool yourself: there is no painting just the walls of any room. As soon as you paint the walls, the paint on the woodwork looks dingy and shitty.
6. Lesson confirmed: the previous homeowners, aka Mr. and Mrs. Half-assed, did everything half-assedly. EVERYTHING. The wallboard is not tightly fitted, there's a gap around the window frame where he measured wrong and just left it, and the whole reason for this painting project is the half-assed wallpaper started falling off recently. Like, I brushed against it and a whole sheet came loose.
Y'all, there's a lot of stupid shit on the internet. Sport corsets. Fetish shoes. BDSM fans. But I swear, this shit is the stupidest ever: makeup. for your boobs. The "My Beautiful Breasts Kit" includes seven shades of powdery stuff, "primer", "setting spray", two brushes, and, get this: semi-permanent "bust stain". So you can have makeup on your boobs even when you're sweaty. For fuck's sake. I'm sure someone rad-femmier than me could produce a highly nuanced review of this fucking ridiculous product, but I am clearly reduced to swearing and sputtering.
How might a cranky old ranty-pants run across something so pink, so artificial, so patriarchally endorsed, so stupid? Well you might ask. I found a review of said product on a website called "Vital Juice", which purports to be a website about health and wellness. What the fuckity fuck does boob make-up have to do with health and wellness, I ask you?