26.style

Sorry CRF...

katiebeck:

but it looks like this picture of your boy Bales…

is taking on a whole new meaning. Apparently the hunk turned himself in for assault today. On his mother and sister!!

“LONDON — The darkness around Batman has deepened: While audiences were shattering weekend box-office records in the U.S., Christian Bale was in London, where his mother and sister reportedly leveled assault allegations against the star of “The Dark Knight” that have yet to become clear.”

It’s alright, though. The whole Bad Boy thing is kinda hot. If it hadn’t been assaulting a woman (or two women — one of whom carried him in her womb for nine months), he’d be even sexier in my book.

Oh puh-leeze!  He can assault me all the way to the bedroom…any day!

Everyone knows how much I...

…love the song “The Look” by Roxette.  It’s basically my personal theme song, the overture to my symphony of existence.  Or was until I Googled the lyrics about five minutes ago.  Let’s take a closer look.  Just try to catch all the phallic and tranny references. These lyrics are mind-boggling.



Walking like a man                    
Hitting like a hammer                 
She’s a juvenile scam 
Never was a quitter             
Tasty like a raindrop          
She’s got the look.
Heavenly bound                  
Cause heaven’s got a number   
When she’s spinning me around   
Kissing is a color                     
Her loving is a wild dog           
She’s got the look.

She’s got the look
She’s got the look
What in the world can make a brown-eyed girl turn blue
When everything I ever do I do for you
And I go la la la la la
She’s got the look.

Fire in the ice                            
Naked to the T-bone                   
Is a lover’s disguise                   
Banging on the head drum          
Shaking like a mad bull             
Swaying to the band                 
Moving like a hammer                 
She’s a miracle man               
Loving is the ocean                   
Kissing is the wet sand
She’s got the look.

peterwknox:

brianvan:

It was a calm day until Knox set fire to the Internets again. Lyrical arsonist!

You know, while we’re calling out young women who date older men:

* Short women who only date tall guys

* Useless women who only date rich guys

* High school girls who marry their sweetheart before the age of 22

* Married women. Period.

* Women who cry at night eating ice cream with a soup spoon not because guys won’t talk to them in general, but because they can’t get the top 5% of men in looks/money/charm to admire and emotionally connect with them.

* The specific type of career-focused women who don’t date men because it’s a distraction/impediment to work.

* Women who flirt with you, give you their phone number, and then never pick up the phone or return voicemails.

* Geek girls. I mean, come on, I worked so fucking hard to avoid being the sweaty, awkward guy in the Chewbacca costume at a Lucas movie premiere, only for you to decide that’s exactly what you want?

* Women whose libidos don’t respect the seasons or holidays. Hey, it’s your fourth consecutive single Valentine’s Day, why aren’t you having sex? Hey, it’s springtime, why aren’t you having sex? Hey, it’s your birthday, why aren’t you having sex? Hey, it’s MY birthday, why aren’t we having sex? Hey, it’s Halloween and you’re wearing half of a nurse’s outfit, why aren’t you having sex? Hey, it’s Thanksgiving and you’re stuck in NYC, why aren’t you having a little stuffing with your microwaved turkey? Hey, it’s Christmas and you’re standing under the mistletoe drunk on eggnog and wearing that Mrs. Claus-on-spring-break outfit, why aren’t you having sex?

* Women who have sex with you if you buy them coke. Damn you for making me have to think about decisions!

* Women who refuse to learn how to cook. At all. Which has nothing to do with dating. (I’d call out men for this too, but I don’t follow any home) I mean, Christ, you don’t even have fresh milk in the fridge? Not even soy milk? WTF?

* Women who date losers. He’s got ten other girls on the side and he steals cars. What a catch!

And so on. Flame away.

I’m not blaming women. There’s no easier way to guarentee going home alone than to think that women owe you something. I’m turning 24 on Monday. I’ve had fun, seasons in the sun, and all that but I know I’m capable of being a good boyfriend just like I know I can shoot a three-pointer - it’s just that I don’t often find myself on a basketball court with witnesses.

So…these boys just despise women in general, I assume?  Or every woman they could never have, so about 99% of us.  Regarding the young woman/older man debate: If PWK believes that women reach their physical peak in their twenties, why can’t I only go for men who are at their physical peak, i.e., in their thirties?  Six of the men I’ve had dalliances with in the past three years were over the age of thirty.  Four of those are older than 35.  I’m 23.  You do the math.  Want to know why I go for older men?  BECAUSE I CAN DO WHATEVER THE FUCK I WANT.

Everyone knows that...

…I am a girl of fairly simple expectations:  I drink Tanqueray with soda or chardonnay or light American beer.  I don’t order frou frou milkshakes masquerading as martinis, and I would rather sauté my own eyeballs than sip Scotch. 

But lately I’ve switched it up, and I’ve discovered that in many instances, it pays to imbibe with versatility.  In fact, I’ve filled a veritable scrapbook with memorable drink orders!

Bacardi and Diet takes me back to my lowerclassmen college years – to nights spent at the Beta house and on filthy dance floors, to the pre-nothing-but-a-dress-will-do days when you could find us bedecked in Sevens and a cheap top.  I have started drinking it again lately when I need a caffeine jolt at midnight.  Of course if I really want to see the sun come up…

Sugar-free Red Bull and Grey Goose does the trick marvelously.  I can’t stand the taste of RB; it reminds me too much of Robitussin, and I would sooner lay down in traffic than mix it with cherry or grape flavored vodka.  However.  It is popular, and with good reason.  Weekends last a lot longer when I stay awake from Thursday night to Sunday morning.  Should this not be my main goal…

Lime-flavored beer fills me up and never lets me down.  With Michelob Ultra now on the sugary bandwagon (christening their low-carb cervesa “Lime Cactus”), I can pollute my body and take care of it at the same time!  And I can do it all without going through the rigmarole of slicing and stuffing limes down my Corona longneck, which, let’s face it, was a real pain in the ass.  And while on the lime kick…

Diet margaritas give me the best of both worlds: I take the express lane to Blackoutville and stay in Skinny City after knocking back just a couple of these concoctions.  Ask your friendly neighborhood bartender for Patron on the rocks with a splash of Cointreau and two limes.  It tastes like…a margarita…in Hell…but at least you’ll earn the respect of whomever is mixing the cocktail, and even if you don’t, who cares?  You probably won’t remember ordering it anyway. 

Here’s looking at you, lovers!