Friday, January 30, 2015

WHAT? ME SUNBATHE?



I've read MAD Magazine for years and years. Not recently mind you, but I do remember reading many of the issues that my brother had back in the 50s and 60s. They were pretty hilarious, I must say. I never had a favorite column or anything, given my magazine of choice back then was probably more along the lines of Seventeen, Glamour or Cosmo. But MAD was an excellent way to veg out and giggle plenty. Then... for years and years, I never again picked up the mag.

Until that is, when my kid was a pre-teen, when he too began getting into MAD. Thus in late 80s and most of the 90s he began creating his own collection... which I still have somewhere in the garage, I think. The covers of these magazine were often so damn clever and funny that you just had to check out the entire issue to see what else was going on between all the pages. Oh man... the satires were incredible. And pretty edgy to say the least. What must be going on now, with all the terrorist activities, I shudder to think.

However... the covers totally win above all else, if you ask me. No wonder. Just take a look at the pict up above. I mean seriously. Is that not funny or what?? Who else but Alfred would sit on the beach beneath a thunder cloud with his electric guitar hooked up to a kite?? With the electrical cord wrapped around his toe, no less. Talk about just waiting for a disaster to happen. I saw this shot and simply laughed right out loud. Or... check out this cover:



Brilliant, right?? Like who even thinks of this?? Well paid writers, I guess but still. To have such a comical mind blows me away. I especially love the Soup Nazi down in the right hand corner since I actually TOOK my kid to the Soup Nazi when in Manhattan for his 15th birthday. And btw... let me just tell you... THE BEST SOUP I EVER TASTED! Plus... the way the episode was portrayed on Seinfeld was exACTly the way the whole process operated. See? You have a daughter, you have to get into Esmeralda and Cinderella. You have a son, you have to get into MAD, Game Boys and rockets.

All I know is that when you have some down time and want to laugh right out loud, Google Mad Magazine covers. It'll be a major hoot. Or maybe it's just me. Besides... I have a very keen sense of humor and therefore adore laughing. Maybe that's because when I was growing up, I always remember lots of music being played in the house and lots of humor being shared, too. Both on LP albums, I might add. Plus... my parents loved sharing great jokes so basically... there were lots of chuckles going on.

When I had a family of my own, we also heard lots of music. And roared at major sitcoms of the day. MTV was big back in the day, so that made it totally easy to hear music all the time. Sitcoms had become pretty sophisticated too, all the way from ALL IN THE FAMILY to THE SIMPSONS to SEINFELD and everything in between. And... everything in between included MAD Magazine. Oh yeah... and our local shock jock, plus Howard Stern. Whom to this day my son and I listen to each and every day. Howard by the way, is THE interviewer of all times. His really tasteless humor from the days of terrestrial radio is long gone and in it's place, on satellite radio, are some the best interviews I've ever heard. With major players in all arenas of pop culture. Anyway...


If you want keep abreast of some really creative laughs, check out MAD. If nothing else, check out it's covers. If you can't find some great fodder for a big belly laugh then all I can say is: uh... you're just not trying. What? Me Lie??     

Friday, January 23, 2015

FASHION SHOWS


Grabbing a front row seat at a fashion show is a really big deal. And you basically don't really get to grab it yourself. Totally no savsies going on here. Instead, you are pretty much told where you'll sitting thus you have so got to be hot shit to be seated up front. REALLY hot shit. Actually... celebrities are often seated in the middle front so that photographers can get some really great money shots. Like maybe three for the price of one if you catch my drift.

Anna Wintour btw, definitely gets the front row, but she often likes sitting near the end of the row just so she can check out the exit of each model. But trust me... Anna gets to be whereEVER she wants given she is a major player in fashion. Thanks to Vogue. The entire concept of fashion show seating is a pretty interesting topic, actually. Although were I ever invited to Fashion Week in New York or Paris... boom. Give me the last row if you want. Just give me a seat!

And... the shows themselves can be major productions. High priced models, often spectacular music, up to the minute designs, etc. etc. My favorite part btw, is the end of the shows when all the models prance one last time along the runway followed by the designer himself. Totally exciting.

In the meantime... ever hear of men's clothing designer, Rick Owens?? That's him in the pict up above. Oh man... now THERE is a show at which I wished I had been sitting. Not at all for Rick's fashions, mind you, but more for the ability to have been there when his latest male models brought well deserved gasps to the audience. You can't even beLIEVE what they got to see recently. Think: shocking. 

Case in point: here is a picture of one of his models coming down the catwalk wearing what I can only assume is a sportswear fashion item for men. 



Okay. So lots of these sort of looks were modeled. THEN... came time for the newest item: enter The Cloak. Wanna see what THAT looked like?? Sitting down?? Warning: if prudish, please don't continue.




Can you BELIEVE what you're seeing here?? Holy ba holy. YEP. IT'S THE PENIS CLOAK THAT YOU'RE SEEING HERE, MY FRIEND.  Maybe the one and only you'll ever see. Unless of course you're at the Playboy Mansion or in your bedroom or at a gay bar or just plain out of your mind. Can you imagine how I laughed right out loud with shock when I saw this today?? ARE YOU KIDDING ME?? All of a sudden Victoria's Secret's annual televised lingerie modeling event becomes G rated compared to THIS.

DISCLAIMER TO BLOGGER, BTW: Please don't yell at me for posting this shot. I sincerely believe I am not going against your Content Policy. I just like being able to keep my readers... ahem... abreast of my take on 1.) what's in the news and 2.) what adult fashion is today.  

I know. I know. My past few posts seem to have a theme going on here, but believe me. IT'S NOT ME. It's the news of the day!  Which only means are we ever obsessed with male nudity! Which is not an altogether bad thing, btw. Case in point: 

I'm way in favor of male frontal nudity in films. I'm done with the naked bodies... breasts in particular... of stunning actresses that you can almost count on viewing in almost any movie ever made lately. Who needs more breast shots, anyway? I've seen a zillion in real life. Truly... they're not really a big deal. But male nudity?? Whoa. We haven't even begun to scratch the surface, if you ask me. No pun intended.

Which must be why I get such a kick out seeing things like this. I just can't stop chuckling. Who the hell is actually going to be WEARING these cloaks, anyway? Geez... make these out of plastic and bingo. You've protection from the rain in a flash. Well... wait. Not comPLETE protection. But surely easy access for urinal needs. IT'S JUST CRAZY, I tell you. Just crazy.  


On the other hand... any sort of crazy that makes me laugh right smack out loud? Boom. I'm in sheer delight. All I can say is congratulations to Rick Owens. He has made, by far, the biggest splash on the runway that I've EVER heard or seen. As for his sales... God only knows. Need another look at his fashions, btw? Here. Check this out, too. Oh man. 

Literally. 

Oh yeah. Once again, WARNING. Do not view if you are in any way prudish. Also once again...

DISCLAIMER TO BLOGGER, BTW: Please don't yell at me for posting these shots. I sincerely believe I am not going against your Content Policy. I just like being able to keep my readers... ahem... abreast of my take on 1.) what's in the news and 2.) what adult fashion is today.





    
    

Tuesday, January 20, 2015

AN HEIRESS


I think about my parents every day of my life. I wave and say hello to them every time I pass by the cemetery in which they are buried. I totally wished they were still alive to see me now, although that would make them 94 years old and I don't care WHAT anyone says... 94 year olds are no picnic. For them or for their caretakers. I mean seriously... 94 gives a whole new meaning to: home bound. Maybe even room bound. Plus... 10 to 1 most don't really have their mental faculties anymore let alone the ability to care for themselves. Just my opinion, but whatever.

When my parents passed away it goes without saying that I was very very sad. Like I said... I'd kill for them to see me now. Anyway... my parents lived a basically charmed life. Yes, there were ups and downs for them but through it all, they were able to pretty much enjoy very good health, a very loving family and a large amount of creature comforts. Which to tell you the truth... meant that indeed... when they passed away, I was able to inherit some of those comforts for myself. Hence the reason a friend of mine once called me AN HEIRESS. Which totally makes me laugh. Remembering of course the ole saying: the truth is often said in jest.

However... the REAL HARD CORE HEIRESS' were those at the turn of the century let's say, when HUGE amounts of money were made by the Vanderbilts, the Astors, the Rockefellers, etc. etc. Now THOSE were family members who understood inheritances, alright. And, pretty much tax free if I remember correctly. Anyway...

I had seen a commercial for a TV series called THE MILLION DOLLAR AMERICAN PRINCESSES. Lickety split I knew exactly what this show was about. It was referring to what Edith Wharton wrote about in her book THE BUCCANEERS. They were the American young women of millionaires who basically paid for English husbands, and their titles, with very large sums of their father's monies. Kinda like cash for castles and/or estates. Exactly like Downtown Abbey where Lady Cora basically paid for her British home and hubby. A Match.com in the 1900's let's say. Anyway...

The prospect of this series sent my heart all aflutter. I couldn't WAIT to view these shows. TOTALLY up my alley. One glitch, however. One MAJOR glitch. I needed to have the Smithsonian Channel on my Direct TV programming package. 

Which uh... I didn't. Talk about a dagger in my heart. In order to withdraw it, I immediately called Direct TV and inquired how I could GET the channel. Some very nice guy named Steve helped me out. He helped me out so much in fact, that get THIS:

After checking a bunch of things, next thing I know Steve comes back on the line and basically tells me... UH. TELL YOU WHAT, LINDA. I'M GIVING YOU THE SMITHSONIAN CHANNEL PLUS 7 OTHER CHANNELS FOR FREE. FOR THE ENTIRE NEXT YEAR, TOO!!! What??? Are you kidding me? Really?? I heard this and right off the bat I say: TIME OUT. LET ME BE CLEAR. YOU'RE GIVING ME 8 CHANNELS FOR FREE FOR A YEAR?? Yes ma'am. I am.

HALLEFUCKINGLUJAH!! I was totally in my glory!! Steve has no clue how close he was to being offered special favors in the name of gratitude! I couldn't believe it. How could I have BEEN so lucky as to have had this good fortune?? Talk about inheriting, alright! And... if you think I was in my glory THEN... well then you should have seen me when actually watching the first show of the series. OMG. I SO thought I had died and gone to heaven. Everything I'd ever read on this topic was right smack there, before my very eyes. Thank you Smithsonian for giving me hours of sheer delight!

My favorite episode thus far has been the one about Consuelo Vanderbilt, daughter of the infamous Alva Vanderbilt. Alva knew from the day Consuelo was born that she was going to marry off her only daughter to major high society and thus groomed her accordingly. Then bingo. Consuelo turns 16 and they head on over to London to find a titled bachelor who wanted bucks. BIG bucks. Plus... Alva  would consider no gentleman below that of a Duke. HER daughter had to become a duchess, and nothing less. And guess what. MISSION ACCOMPLISHED. 

Of course Consuelo and her Duke hated each other from the get go, but believe me. That mattered not one friggin' iota to Mother Alva. Don't ask. Seriously... reading about this branch of the Vanderbilt family is way interesting. At some point btw, mother and daughter do indeed become reconciled, all in the name of helping women in America and England claim the right to vote. 


As for me... alas, no. I never married a Duke. Damnit. I never lived in a castle nor on an Estate. But... thanks to my parents, I did enjoy some kind of inheritance and for that... I am as grateful as any mother of a married Duchess. Well, almost.  

Friday, January 16, 2015

NEED I SAY MORE??

Uh... given yesterday's post, I felt this might be an appropriate follow up. Or not. In the meantime... designer John Ford sure has alot of tongues wagging (no pun intended) over his latest piece of jewelry. As in: the necklace you see here. So you tell me. A cross or a penis? 

Which makes me wonder. Could this become the newest must have for Catholic priests? I don't mean to be sacrilegious or anything but seriously... given the news of the past few years, the priests DO seem to have a problem in this area. Just saying.

In the meantime, I totally would love to know who's buying this and for whom.

Thursday, January 15, 2015

PLAY TIME


Oh man. Is this ever up my alley. Granted... my crazy alley. I just can't beLIEVE what's doing with this toy. As in: PLAY DOH. The kind of Play Doh we have all played with at one time or another. However... way back when, you can be SURE it wasn't the kind that's on the market today.

Today you're going to have to be way careful when playing with your kids. God only knows which way it might go. The kit I'm talking about is the one Hasbro brought out for Christmas last November. The phallic Hasbro toy, if you must know. So unsettling true, yet in my mind, oh so hilarious.

Apparently many a kid got the Play Doh Sweet Shoppe Cake Mountain kit this recent holiday season. What wasn't so good is that kit came with a tool... called the extruder... that is used to push out the Play Doh which helps to decorate the cake. Oh it pushes it out, alright. Right smack from an item that pretty much looks exactly like a penis. A kid sized dildo, if you will. Here... take a gander and see what YOU think:



I'M RIGHT, RIGHT?? I can not TELL you how much this makes me laugh. I can't even beGIN to imagine the parents who sat down Xmas morning ready to play with their child and lo and behold tried to RESTRAIN THEMSELVES FROM LAUGHING THEMSELVES RIGHT SMACK INTO OBLIVION.

Of course... most parents didn't laugh at all. Instead they gasped in horror. ARE YOU KIDDING ME? I HAVE TO HELP MY CHILD PLAY WITH A PENIS?? Talk about a great segue into SEX ED, if you ask me. Were it me playing with a child using this tool I'd be on the FLOOR laughing my sweet little ass off, but plenty!

Which makes me wonder. When the designers of the toy brought this kit into the big Executive Board of Head Honchos for the demonstration meeting, did NO ONE say: Uh... about the dildo, there. You think that's going to fly?? You think we may get calls on that?? We need to rename Play Doh to Porn Doh?? 

Oh man. What were they THINKING?? Totally a meeting I wished I had attended. Way too many dick heads in THAT little gathering, if you ask me. No pun intended, btw.  

Of COURSE Hasbro would be getting calls from parents. FLIPPED FREAKIN' OUT PARENTS, TOO. I mean seriously. You just don't throw a toy penis into the mix and not expect SOME sort of backlash. Believe me. This sort of deal is absolutely what I needed to help bring me out of the sadness of the French terrorist troubles of late. Which is another story altogether. In the meantime however...

Thank you Hasbro for making a toy close to my heart. Cake designing. Thank you more though, for making a toy that had me on the floor LMAO. As for hiring, btw... please put ME on your design team and/or Exe. Brd. so that I can help you steer clear of inventory woes when all the toys are returned due to unwanted pornographic tools. I can SO cut your losses in half by merely spotting sex toy problems in a flash. Speaking of which...

Get a load of another ingenious way to enjoy Play Doh. Oh man. This artistically inspired guy did. Gross, yes. Hilarious, nonetheless.  hahahhahahhha



Saturday, January 3, 2015

DON'T CALL MY HOUSE ...


Because basically I won't be able to answer. Geez. Talk about a pain in the ass. The craziest thing happened while I was on the phone today. Blah. Blah. Blah. I'm on the phone. I'm talking away. Boom. Out of nowhere the line goes dead. Which translates into: shoot me now, please.

Next thing I know, all of a sudden, the cordless phone to my main base... to which, btw, there are 4 more remote locations throughout the house... displays a sweet little message telling me to: CHECK PHONE LINES. Turns out ALL the phones give me that message. In the meantime... Okay. I'll bite. I check the phone line to the main base, being sure everything's connected correctly and sure enough. It is.

Which btw, it HAS to be, given a mere moment earlier, I was busy chit chatting on the phone. Thus, unless some mysterious ghost is in my home or in my cordless system, I can't figure out what the hell is going on. Unless of course, North Korea is pissed at me for downloading THE INTERVIEW last night from Direct TV. Ooops. Sorry Mr. Supreme Leader. I couldn't help it. It was only $5.99 but whatever.

Anyway... forget about him. Back to Mrs. Supreme Leader... ME. What really got me confused is that while the phone system is not working... the modem, connected to my phone line IS! How that can be, I just don't know UNLESS... it's the cordless system that's kaput and not my outside phone line at all. Trust me. My head is spinning from all this.

Okay. So first I call all the important people on my personal, can't live without contacting me, list to alert them: call me on my cell number only. Second, I decide to forget about the entire problem altogether for a long while since I was in no mood to handle this hassle until way later. Why ruin a perfectly fine evening worrying about bullshit, was my thinking. Third, I then unplugged all the phones in all the rooms and basically merrily went about my business. Until about an hour ago, that is.

That is when I decided to use my one land line phone to test the cordless troubles at hand. Were I to plug in the land line, and it worked, then bingo. I would know it's the phone system that's broken, not the outside phone line. Minor problem however. Just where the fuck IS my land line phone?? I'VE CHECKED EVERYWHERE AND HAVE NO F'ING CLUE WHERE IT COULD BE. I'M READY TO SLIT MY WRISTS.

However, instead of doing that just yet... fourth, I decided to finally break down and using my cell phone, I actually called AT&T to have THEM test my line. Ooops. Can't be done at this hour. SOOOOO then.... some automated message comes on saying: THANKS FOR REPORTING YOUR PROBLEM. WE'VE SCHEDULED YOUR REPAIR TO BE DONE ON NEXT WEDNESDAY.

What??????????? They want me to wait five days for this repair??? ARE THEY NUTS??????

So fifth I immediately call AT&T back to get a human to tell them: UH... PROBLEM HERE. I CAN'T WAIT FIVE DAYS. WE NEED TO REWORK THIS REPAIR MAN VISIT LICKETY SPLIT. Which means tomorrow morning I will supposedly get a call from him Mr. Repair Guy sometime before ten. Yeah, right. Like that's ever going to happen. 

Which also means... I then asked for the number to call so that at one minute after ten I can call yet again to find out WHY THE HELL DIDN'T THE REPAIR GUY CALL ME YET? IT'S AFTER TEN. See? I like planning ahead for all my upcoming bitching. Or as Girl Scouts like to call it: being prepared.

Alright. So I get it. This is major crapola but I just have to wait to see how all this is going to pan out tomorrow. But truthfully? I sort of think I'm due to update my cordless system afterall which only means I'll be high tailing it to Best Buy sometime tomorrow to check out new phones. Damn. I totally don't want to be doing all this. Besides...

Buying new a phone doesn't even resolve my PRESENT problem. Which is: where IS my land line phone, anyway? The phone that I have for EXACTLY this sort of problem and/or emergency. I can't even believe what's going on here. All I know is... for someone as organized as I am... it appears I have no clue about anything anymore. 


Except... wait a minute. NEWS FLASH QUESTION: Do cordless phones need new batteries and I just don't know it?? On man... can you iMAGine?? Sorry... gotta go. Have to search out my stock of batteries IMMEDIATELY. Totally wish me luck because this being without a home phone set up will easily drive me nuts. And believe me... I'm halfway there as is.