Home > Archives for June, 2013
Monthly Archives: June 2013
Read my own tarot and then ignore the outcome to my own worst detriment. Spend more money on fancy facial treatments than I do on health insurance. Yell at people for things that aren’t my business and I don’t really care about.
Seriously consider purchasing a house you can only access by a treacherous and steep hiking path up a mountain. For real.
Feelin’ the easy, alluring, effortlessness of a tunic right now. I’m obsessed with my fanny pack. Keeps the hands free for dirty work. Usually I prefer neutral, but tonight, why not candy-coated toes?Modern summer makeup in four words: strong brow, neutral lip.See you tonight sexy bitches.
…that my therapist insists on hugging me goodbye?
…that I am really not all that religious about my sunscreen application?…that long black hairs grow from my chin?
…that my friends want to set me up?
…that my nosy aunts won’t quit nagging me about unclaimed property?
…you’ve enjoyed a Reed’s Ginger Brew. …you’ve played duck, duck, goose with some kids in the yard. …you’ve plunged in feet first.…you’ve experienced gridlock. …you’ve been bitten by a mosquito. …you’ve enjoyed a drink outdoors.
…you’ve attended a wedding.
So I’ve been listening to Yeezus for almost a week now. Some people love it. Some people hate it. Some people just repeat opinions they hear on Pitchfork. I’m not one of those people. To succinctly summarize Kanye’s problem: he lacks credibility. While lecturing us on materialism, he name checks Alexander Wang all while playing designer with his very own weak-ass ready-to-wear collection. Kanye, you wish you were Alexander Wang. Kanye, you wish you were Riccardo Tisci. (Or you wish you were in Riccardo Tisci allegedly whatever.) How can a man that is shamelessly reproducing with the Kueen of Konsumption lecture anyone? Kanye maintains his trademark anger on this album, but on Yeezus it feels particularly misdirected. For all his race-based indignation, I suspect the last time Kanye West felt legitimately persecuted is when Alber Elbaz had the good sense to deny his ass from the Lanvin show. My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy is a really incredible and incomparable record. I don’t expect every record Kanye makes to eclipse BDTF, but Yeezus isn’t at all fun. Kanye borrows from a somewhat diverse (if predictable) musical cannon ranging from Billie Holliday (vis-à-vis Nina Simone) to Charlie Wilson, but the vocal layering never quite gels. It feels very mash-up and less integrative than his previous application of this well-worn technique. Kanye fancies himself a pioneer and taste-maker, but his private and personal decisions of the last year prove he’s no visionary. Yeezus ain’t all that innovative. Kim is so over, and bathed in her low-budget, mainstream media-whore stank Kanye’s all but over too.
I’d Rather Be a Dick Than a Swallower
Happy Solstice! Today we welcome summer. I will complete 108 sun salutations to initiate in the new season. The practice helps me shed old energy and embrace the future. If my tan so far is any indication, this summer is going to be the best summer ever. No those bitches didn’t name that baby North West. For fucksake.
In this week’s non-bombshell news, is anyone actually surprised that Paula Deen is a racist? For today’s overreaching bossy advice I command you go outside and smile at a stranger. Okay, fine, sneer if you want to, but go outside.