Tuesday, January 25, 2011

Tales from the Casting Ouch

Our monthly feature, as compiled and commented upon by a genuine Hollywood Actress:

Lets get payed!
Let's get an apostrophe and a spell checker!

You're list of credits.
Please give that apostrophe to the previous guy, and drop the E, because you are wrong.

I've got rythm.
No, no, you don't.

We are an independant movie.
Do you offer pendants? I could use another necklace.

Monday, January 24, 2011

We'd Heard About This Shirt...

But we didn't really believe in its existence until we saw the photo.

This attractive garment comes from Wet Seal's "I'm So Desperate I've Considered Having Sex with My Landlord's Dog" line (other items include a pair of literal "Kissin' Cousins" socks, and single-use thong underwear to cut your losses during the walk mortified trot of shame).

Thanks, Lance (and Little Willow). Your the best.

Thursday, January 13, 2011

Long Live the Queen

We are still grieving that a Neiman* Marcus was built atop the smoldering bones of our childhood Dairy Queen. We love Dairy Queen. We love the soft ice cream. The whimsically named Dilly Bars. The Peanut Buster Parfaits. The crazy way they cling to the sort of anachronistic word "brazier" even though it's really close to "brasierre," and even though Dairy Queen could be used as slang for a top-heavy girl and it's crazy, crazy, crazy to have so many boob-joke possibilities on one sign. (Wow. Sorry for that breathless almost run-on sentence. We maybe need to eat some lunch.)

We do not, however, admire the boob who got the spelling on this sign wrong. "Do to" should've been "due to." That said, we're glad they're opening again soon, so that Alex F. who sent us this photo, won't have to wait long to enjoy a delicious Blizzard.

Best Fake Words in Apology Ever

Thanks to Gawker and Kat G. for this apology from Ricky Romance to Chris Brown.

George W. Bush and Sarah Palin make up words, but they are the mere typing monkeys to the Shakespeare that is Ricky R. Behold:  

I would like to extend my most sincere apologies to the elderly and youth of our nation for my sudden acrasial message of violence towards other individuals of unimportance."
I must eclaircise any misunderstandings that I am a Man of irrational aggression and behavior.
In no way am I attempting to justify my actions towards persons of high immaturity levels and hypocritical methods of "becoming a better person," I was wrong.
My unexpected reaction to fallaciloquences embellished with deceitful humgruffin cover-ups and unnecessary remarks towards my younger brother enraged me.
I couldn't seem to fathom how a immature nanocephalous adult raglan tailored ex-batman and a jean maillot wearing macrotus, labrose, kazachoc like dancing, woman beater callent could make such comments and pass judgment to an abuse victim.
At the moment I was infuriated. Please let my actions be as a lesson as what not to do. You must vastate yourself to aggression and search for other solutions before reacting.
Threatening closet coward human beings only leads their tearful plea for restraining orders, desperate cries for help from "affiliating gang bangers", and countless whiney excuses -I.E. "she hit me first!!" to the media and courts, which could possibly result unwanted circumstances.
As for the once semi high powered homosexual perverts, molesters and child rapists of the Industry, I vaticinate justice will be brought to you on Judgment Day.
I leave this to God though. Please except my apology, obviously knowing the message can always be heard if ears are around . Thank you.
- Ricky Romance

Monday, January 10, 2011

A Rose by Any Other Name

Oh, Corona Light. Were you, perhaps, DRUNK when you created this sign? Or are you holding some other sort of competitive event in the smoky back room of your bar, something to do with fish eggs?

It's a sad thing when a four-letter word gets misspelled, especially one that minds its own business and doesn't break any rules. 

We hate to say it, but Shakespeare had it wrong. A rose by any other name doesn't smell as sweet. It smells like sweat, fermented yeast, and some horny dude's Old Spice. Blecch.

Thanks to the delightful Josh K. for the photo. We know he isn't the one wearing too much Old Spice.