Armpit fetishism: It’s real, yet not really talked about. We live in an age where tossing salad is all over mainstream porn, but there aren't many people who are gonna cop to licking someone's pit to get off. Is an armpit fetish really so different from all the other freaky stuff out there?
First, I’ll clarify that there is a difference between having a fetish, and just being turned on by something. A fetish in the true sense of the word implies an obsession. As the Kinsey Institute defines it, "fetish specifically refers to a strong sexual preoccupation with an object, material, or body part." Basically, if you prefer armpit sex to regular sex, that’s a fetish. If you have traditional sex, but like to lick and smell armpits while it’s happening, that’s less a fetish and more just a thing that turns you on. Fetishes (or "paraphilias," as they're sometimes called) aren't considered a problem unless they cause distress to the individual or others, though sometimes people just have a hard time understanding how someone could be turned on by something so "weird."
I remember jokingly putting on my OkCupid profile that I had hairy armpits, thinking that would deter a lot of men from messaging me. I never took the site all too seriously, and at the time indeed had hairy pits. So I thought, why not? I figured I’d add this detail about myself so the men posing shirtless in their default pictures would deem me gross, or even worse—some kind of feminist (a.k.a. unfuckable). To my surprise, I had a slew of messages from men who were either “curious” about my armpits, asked me to send pictures, or flat-out stated they loved hairy pits. I found myself in a predicament: If I shaved my armpits, I’d be pleasing men. If I didn't shave my armpits, I’d still be pleasing men. A real damned if I do, damned if I don’t sort of scenario. Couldn't I go just one day without being so goddamn desirable?
A few weeks later, I started seeing someone I met through the site. He lived in San Francisco while I was still living in my college town of Davis. The first time I took a train to meet him, we ended up spending the whole weekend together. The night before I had to leave, we were drunk and got to groping. Eventually, we were both naked. He stopped kissing my lips, and moved down towards my neck and breasts. At this point I was expecting some standard nipple sucking, but instead he lifted my right arm and began licking my armpit up and down. He paused and asked me if this was OK. I let him keep going, and he enthusiastically got to licking the other one. Licking, and kissing it. After a few seconds, he asked if he could “stick his dick there." I panicked at first, thinking he wanted to stick it in my butt. When he clarified that he was talking about my armpits, I was relieved. Hell yeah you can stick it there, just not the butt. Anything but the butt.
Fast forward approximately one minute, and my armpit is getting fucked. It felt strange at first, like a really fat finger trying to tickle me. My arm was squeezing his dick, sort of like a chokehold. I must have looked like the world’s most pathetic wrestler. Actually, thanks to Urban Dictionary (the source for all true knowledge) I learned that the colloquial term for armpit sex is “bagpiping." So that’s what I was-—the bagpiper—playing a silent song at the funeral of my innocence. He, on the other hand, was elated. His eyes lit up when I agreed to let him fuck my armpit. This could very well have been the first time a girl actually let him do it. He was getting his Christmas miracle.
He ended up coming all over the bed. After a brief clean up, he lay down next to me and I asked him how it was. He responded that he loved it. My hair was soft and didn’t irritate him. He then asked me how it was for me. I jokingly responded that it was the pits, which he did not find funny. I then sincerely responded that it was strange, but at the same time, not so bad. It made me feel... sexy? God, as much as I hate that word and could barely find the strength to type it, I really can’t come up with a more appropriate way to describe it. Not to say that I don’t normally feel that way. I do. It was just nice—refreshing even—to see a body part being adored on a woman that’s not her breasts, ass, or vagina. Doesn’t that stuff get boring anyway?
Now, let’s cut to a few years later. This year, to be exact. I was having sex with a sort-of friend of mine. Someone I know from mutual friends, and a good rebound from the relationship I had just got out of. While we were doing it, he asked if he could sniff my armpits. He took a huge whiff, and when he was about to come he dug his face deep into my armpit to get more of the smell. He told me that body odor really turned him on, specifically from armpits. I asked him how it started, or if he even knew. He didn’t know. I wanted him to explain to me this fascination with armpits, with body odor. He couldn’t do it. He just knew that he loved the aroma of sweat. The way an armpit smells is incredibly distinct. He said it engages a sensation inside him, he can’t help being extremely aroused. He also told me that he begged his girlfriends in the past to never wear deodorant.
Looking back, I regret asking him “why?” Why do you find this hot? Of course he didn’t know. I would never expect a partner to tell me why he finds my breasts attractive. He just does. Most people don’t take the time to sit and think, “I love mammaries because___." Also, most people don’t refer to breasts as mammaries, which needs to be changed in my opinion. Another reason I shouldn’t have asked? Because it seems so obvious. They’re right there, when all the stuff is happening—so close to the other body parts that are licked and sucked, and yet they rarely get attention. As weird as it may feel, seem, or sound, armpit fetishists might be onto something.
Wasabi is the most difficult plant to grow commercially. "The first thing to know about wasabi - or Wasabia japonica, as it's officially known - is that you have probably never tried the real thing.
That light green paste nestled next to the pink ginger in your box of sushi? It is most likely a mix of mustard, European horseradish, and food colouring.
In fact, by some estimates, only 5% of the wasabi served in Japanese restaurants around the world comes from the rhizome, or root, of a wasabi plant."
"For nearly 30 years, Brian Oates has, in his words, "pig-headedly" devoted himself to a single pursuit: setting up the first commercial wasabi farm in North America."
"Dozens of others in the US and Canada have tried to grow the plant - a type of horseradish that originates in Japan, where it is found growing naturally in rocky river beds - but almost all have failed.
The reason is simple: wasabi is deemed by most experts to be the most difficult plant in the world to grow commercially."
"Fetching nearly $160 (£98) per kilogram at wholesale, in addition to being hard to nurture, wasabi is also one of the most lucrative plants on the planet."
Fargo es una ciudad de Dakota del Norte (Estados Unidos) y también un lugar fronterizo con el lejano país de los cuentos de hadas: cuentos oscuros en los que hay inocentes, tontos y malos, y malos tontos y un depredador que ha leído a Darwin. Quiero hablaros de este monstruo.
(Si no has visto la serie, lee bajo tu responsabilidad)
La serie Fargo creada por Noah Hawley no es una adaptación de la película Fargo de los hermanos Coen. Los Coen pusieron la semilla de un universo imaginario de la misma manera que Lovecraft puso los cimientos de los Mitos de Cthulhu que después fueron ampliados por escritores amigos.
Fargo es un universo realista y absurdo: un tipo arrastra por la corbata a un contable ante la mirada de cientos de compañeros de trabajo y nadie hace ni dice nada. Los primogénitos varones son tarados y los jefes de policía están más tiempo en el water vomitando o cagando que en los despachos. Aquí nadie tiene la inteligencia suficiente para ser villano. Los hombres malos son abusones que destacan entre cobardes y perdedores, y viven rodeados por secuaces de pocas luces. También hay lugar para adultos inteligentes y honestos como Molly Solverson, ayudante del sheriff, pero nadie la escucha.
LESTER, EL TONTO
Lester Nygaard es el ejemplo del ciudadano tipo de Fargo: sin inteligencia, sin aspiraciones y sin sangre en las venas, con un trabajo insatisfactorio y una esposa gruñona. (Los cuadros con mensajes de autoayuda que cuelgan en la casa de Lester no sirven más que para atormentarlo). Su anodina vida cambia cuando recibe un puñetazo de Hess, un abusón, y acaba en el hospital con la nariz rota. Allí conoce a Lorne Malvo. El espectador ya ha visto a Malvo en los primeros minutos: es un asesino, pero se desconocen sus motivos. Lester cuenta a Malvo cómo acabó con la nariz rota.
—Ha abusado de ti delante de sus hijos —dice Malvo—. Ese hombre no se merece ni respirar.
—¿Qué se supone que tengo que hacer? —dice Lester.
Tienes que matarlo, dice Malvo con la mirada.
—Maldita sea —dice Lester—, si tan claro lo tienes, quizás deberías matarlo por mí.
MALVO, EL MALO
Y Malvo va a ver a Hess… Y pensamos que Malvo es el forastero del viejo western que llega a la ciudad para imponer la paz. Y nos equivocamos. En la siguiente aparición de Malvo este revela qué guarda en el corazón: llega a un hotel, ve cómo la dueña reprende a un joven empleado y habla al joven aparte.
—Hijo, te ha comparado con una almeja —dice Malvo.
—Bueno, ¿y qué debería hacer?
—Un tipo me insultó una vez. Le meé en el tanque de gasolina. El coche no volvió a funcionar bien nunca.
Malvo entra en su habitación y descuelga el teléfono:
—¿Motel “Leroy’s Motor”? Señora, estoy mirando por mi ventana, hay un joven meando en el tanque de gasolina de su coche.
La dueña del hotel golpea con una escoba al joven empleado. Malvo ríe. Malvo no ha venido para restablecer el orden entre los abusones y las víctimas. Siente placer haciendo daño o viendo cómo otros se lo hacen. Y no tiene reparos en escoger como víctimas a tarados ni en traicionar a su jefe y a sus clientes. Malvo no tiene más obligaciones que Malvo.
FARGO Y KUROSAWA
Fargo parece reescribir el western con Malvo: resuena de alguna manera el samurai de Yojimbo de Kurosawa o la adaptación no confesa de Por un puñado de dólares de Leone. (Los tribunales dieron la razón a Kurosawa). El samurai y el pistolero son asesinos a sueldo, venden sus brazos armados al mejor postor, pero no atentan contra inocentes. Hay matices: el samurai no está orgulloso de lo que hace, pero el pistolero acepta que digan de él que asesina por dinero. Malvo es un asesino a sueldo que está por encima de ellos; está orgulloso de lo que hace y cómo lo hace: se considera un depredador en la escala superior de la escala alimenticia.
FARGO Y FAUSTO
No solo el western resuena en Fargo. El Fausto de Goethe se asoma con Malvo como Mefistófeles de un Lester como aprendiz de hombre malo. «Tienes los ojos negros», dice un hombre a Malvo. Los ojos del diablo. Quienes le obedecen coinciden: ese hombre tiene algo en la mirada… La realización acrecienta el aura de maldad de Malvo apenas mostrando cómo camina. Un guiño a Hitchcock que consideraba que ver caminar a un villano lo humaniza. Si vemos a Malvo caminando es porque arrastra a una persona, como al contable, ante la mirada atónita de cientos de personas. Malvo siempre está donde tiene que estar.
Sin personajes como Molly y Gus y la hija de este, Fargo sería difícil de digerir. Es desoladora por la nieve, por crueldad que unos personajes muestran con otros, por la estupidez ajena y por Malvo. El conjunto resulta demasiado atractivo, adictivo, y convierte a Fargo en una serie que «hay que ver».
A wonderful set this evening, can't remember from where I got it, back in the day I was collecting psych comps from various blogs almost daily, honestly don't recall the source for this one.....the full title is "Psychedelic Portugal-Hard Psych and Prog from the Portugal Underground Psych Scene, 1968-74"......if you are a fan of foreign language (only some of it, some is English) psych/prog, this is a fairly unknown gem that you will want to attack. Just gave it a refresher listen today, it's a REALLY good one and comes with my highest recommendation for this type of thing......if you scan the track/artist listing, there may not be anything that jumps out at you, but "A Story" by Ex- Libris is a real winner, "Stand By" from Pop Music Five, Inc, echoes the great Nuggets garage psych sound, The Heavy Band (!) contributes "Funky", The Chinchillas "Barbarella" is a standout, hell it's all great, can't beleive I've never popped this one up before when I was in one of those moods where I didn't want to do much work.........seriously, this is a keeper......
PSYCHEDELIC PORTUGAL-01 INTRO/02 EX-LIBRIS-A Story/03 OBJECTIVO-Gin Blues/04 POP MUSIC FIVE INC-Stand By/05 CHINCHILLAS-Barbarella/06 PETRUS CASTRUS-Batucada Vulgaris/07 PIEXUS-Paraiso Amanha/08 EVOLUCAO-Noites de Sabath/09 FLUIDO-O Homem Sentado/10 FAUSTO-Instro/11 BEATNICKS-Money/12 MECHANICAL DREAM-Skate/13 THE HEAVY BAND-Funky/14 QUARTETO 1111-1111/15 BANDA 4-Walking on the Beach/16 JOSE CID-A Viagem/17 SERGIO BORGES COM CONJUNTO JOAO PAULO-Paul Da Terra/18 FILARMONICA FRAUDE-Devedoe a Terra
Lemme know your thoughts, I have another Portugal set, a multi-disc "Nuggets" type thing that I might dig out soon if the Portugal thing goes over well......
O presidente galego evita comprometerse a título persoal co Camiño de Santiago. “Nun congreso de peregrinacións como este, que é a primeira vez que se celebra aquí, entenderá que teña que estar a favor das peregrinacións”, asegura.
The summer television season used to be reserved for the ignoble combination of network miscalculations and obligatory burn offs as the Big Four reserved their more acclaimed pilots for the prestigious fall season. Luckily, the television landscape is slowly evolving. While the upcoming spate of new network sitcoms suggest that the low end of the dial may be clinging to the cozy confines of the familiar, FX’s freshman series You’re the Worst has embraced the allure of the unknown and, in the process, has quietly delivered the most entertaining comedy of the year.
Described as a "dark twist on the romantic comedy genre,” You’re the Worst follows the budding relationship between two professionals in the field of self-destruction: Jimmy, a misanthropic novelist, and Gretchen, a recreationally dishonest music publicist — both of whom, as you may have gleaned from the title, are somewhere near the vicinity of the worst.
YTW debuted this summer with a promising pilot, but fearlessly strutted into “double take” territory soon there after as the series began to exude a quality rarely seen in a rookie sitcom: poise. The series radiates confidence with an unflinching comprehension of its own unique point of view while defiantly refusing to pander to anything other than its own ethos. Sitcom chemistry may not be an exact science, but creator Stephen Falk and the casting department went straight up Louis Pasteur mode on You’re the Worst.
“FX let me cast the best actors I could find, rather than pressure me to go for ‘names’ or even anyone really recognizable,” Falk recently told TVGuide.com.
The results speak for themselves. Despite their duplicitous nature, Jimmy and Gretchen are inherently likable characters. Their flaws aren’t one-dimensional fodder for the sake of sitcom conflict — their shortcomings are rooted in that old relatable chestnut known as insecurity. Chris Geere and Aya Cash, the actors who portray Jimmy and Gretchen, nimbly oscillate between humor and heart with the nuanced depth typically reserved for the Sundance darling du jour.
Desmin Borges and Kether Donohue round out the ensemble as Edgar and Lindsay, respectively. There’s an old sitcom adage that “every character in an ensemble should be capable of being the lead in the show” — this is a principle YTW not only follows but subsumes. Edgar and Lindsay provide the requisite sounding board for their counterparts, but they contribute that function while being fully-developed characters, complete with their own independent issues. Every character that inhabits this universe, from recumbent bicycle enthusiast Paul to architecture aficionado Sam, is a three-dimensional character that refuses to be content to just occasionally occupy the same real estate as Gretchen and Jimmy.
I may not realistically want to be close friends with these characters, but I’d absolutely want to be casually acquainted with them. You don’t necessarily need people like this in your life, but you kind of want them around every now and again. Sometimes the straw that stirs the drink makes the cocktail that much more appetizing.
You’re the Worst’s charming combination of witty banter, anti-social rants, and idiosyncratic pop-culture diatribes is a key component to its success, but what makes this series truly unique is the way it deftly balances its acerbic edge with a stealthy optimistic soul. Gretchen and Jimmy are damaged not shattered. Bent not broken. Both characters, despite their plethora of interpersonal maladies, are battling against their own jaded nature in an attempt to make this relationship work. Love, in the absolute best and worst way possible, is both messy and absurd. YTW doesn’t inauthentically celebrate this notion as much as it realistically embraces it.
YTW is very much like the day drinking the series ever so reveres: a little dangerous, oddly exhilarating, and intoxicatingly unpredictable. To borrow a phrase from ‘90s R&B parlance, it’s straight up CrazySexyCool. The writer in me wants to commend this trenchant new series for its refusal to conform to traditional rom-com precepts, but the television fan at my core, the one who missed a birthday party to watch Salute Your Shorts and set his VCR to record Simpsons reruns while away at summer camp, just wants to nudge you in its direction and emphatically recommend this amazing series because in terms of sitcoms, you can’t do much better than You’re the Worst.
The season finale of You’re the Worst airs tonight at 10:30 pm on FX.
Los Angeles-based artist and animator Lili Chin's personal project "Dogs of the World" features canines grouped by their areas of origin. Chin began the series in 2008 as a way to fund a local dog rescue called Boston Buddies.
Since the project's inception, its scale has expanded greatly, and its existence has proved beneficial to a number of pet rescue organizations. As Chin says,
"In the past five years, Doggie Drawings has evolved into a full-time (one-person) pet portrait and illustration business. So far, I have drawn over 800 unique pet portraits and donated a total of $13,242 to many dog rescue groups."
These dogs may hail from distinct parts of the world, but the love many humans have for them is universal. See more of Chin's dog drawings from many other regions of the world here. Via Design Taxi.
By now, we all know what it means to be a basic bitch. The internet has exhausted the term and its associated cultural trends to such a degree that we might have reached peak basic, the moment when the world can get none more basic and we all just have to stop talking about it. In this period of basic saturation, we decided that it's time to find the ultimate basic—to choose who will lord over the secret Cape Cod bunker that holds a large cache of capri pants, pumpkin spice lattes, rocket launchers, cases of white wine, Norah Jones CDs, crossbows, M-16s, B-vitamins, Voss water, paperback copies of The Goldfinch, and kale chips in case of an attack on America.
To do that, we asked three expert judges to join our Ultimate Basic Bitch panel: Big Freedia, bounce music icon and a queen in her own right; Julie Klausner, comedian and host of the "How Was Your Week" podcast; and VICE staff writer Dave Schilling. After a painstaking process of elimination, we believe we found the Ultimate Basic Bitch. From 32, there can be only one Queen of Basics.
ACTRESS REGION
GWYNETH PALTROW VS. KATE HUDSON –In pre-tournament office surveys, Gwyneth was a strong favorite, thanks to her very posh, very normal life and her penchant for wearing beige. Kate has the sort of face that belongs in a Sears catalogue, but she's also showbiz royalty and was married to the guy from the Black Crows (weird). She barely skates into this tournament.
WINNER: Gwyneth Paltrow (2 to 1)
Big Freedia says: "Oh God, Gwyneth. Her voice puts me to sleep."
ANNE HATHAWAY VS. BLAKE LIVELY – Anne Hathaway dated a grifter, which is not basic. But public opinion is not in her favor right now. Women find her very, very annoying and bland. In 2012, Blake Lively was named one of People magazine's "Most Beautiful at Every Age." We hope she's ready to win yet another prestigious award.
WINNER: Anne Hathaway (2 to 1)
Big Freedia says: "Don't know who either of 'em are."
JULIA ROBERTS VS. KATIE HOLMES – Julia has made a successful career out of being relatable to normal people. My Best Friend's Wedding might be the ultimate basic movie (other than Maid in Manhattan). On the other hand, Katie Holmes's most well-known film role is the generic doomed love interest in a Batman film—which she didn't even get to film the death scene for, because she abdicated from the part before the filming of The Dark Knight.
WINNER: Katie Holmes (2 to 1)
Dave Schilling says: "Had to go with Katie Holmes. Marrying Lyle Lovett is somehow less boring than marrying Tom Cruise."
JENNIFER ANISTON VS. MICHELLE WILLIAMS [WHITE] – Michelle is the Ledger widow, which automatically makes her a dubious choice for this competition. She's here anyway. Deal. Jennifer Aniston is Jennifer Aniston.
WINNER: Jennifer Aniston (3 to 0)
Julie Klausner says: "Jennifer Aniston, because basic bitches across this crapland still ask for her haircut."
POP STARS REGION
BRITNEY SPEARSVS. RITA ORA – Britney singlehandedly made carrying a Starbucks cup while wearing sweatpants cool, but also lost her mind in 2007. Losing your mind is not basic. Rita Ora looks fairly wacky, but that also appears to be a bit of a put-on for the sake of alt cred.
WINNER: Rita Ora (2 to 1)
Julie Klausner says: "Rita Ora, by far. If her name weren’t so close to 'Ore-Ida' I wouldn’t even remember her. I just pay attention to things that might be potatoes."
MICHELLE WILLIAMS [BLACK] VS. AVRIL LAVIGNE – It's been hard enough for Michelle these past few years. At least let her win THIS. Avril is married to the lead singer of Nickelback, though it appears they're about to call it quits. Admitting a mistake is not the same as avoiding making that mistake in the first place.
Dave Schilling says: "I wanted to vote for Avril but picked Michelle just because her advancing on a unanimous vote made me laugh."
CARRIE UNDERWOOD VS. HILARY DUFF – These days, "country music icon" is code for "basic." Yeah, you knew Carrie would be here. If you don't understand why Hilary Duff is basic, then we question why you are even reading this article.
WINNER: Hilary Duff (2 to 1)
Big Freedia says: "Hilary Duff. She Disney."
KELLY CLARKSON VS. JESSICA SIMPSON – Kelly Clarkson is like a living, breathing bowl of marshmallows. Jessica Simpson, on the other hand, has a hard-won reputation for ruining football teams with her vagina.
WINNER: Kelly Clarkson (3 to 0)
Julie Klausner says: "Kelly Clarkson, I guess, but if it were Ashlee Simpson vs. Kelly Clarkson, Ashlee would be the basic-est, with a lip-sync jig to match."
PUBLIC FIGURE/MISC. REGION
KATE MIDDLETON VS. CASEY ANTHONY – Kate Middleton truly is Her Royal Basicness. She is so tasteful that if she showed up in a Katy Perry music video, it would immediately get nominated for a Peabody Award. You might be asking yourself what Casey Anthony is doing in this tournament. She was accused of murdering her daughter, and during her trial, photos of her setting the Orlando nightlife scene on fire were released to the public. I hear your complaints, but every tournament needs an underdog.
WINNER: Kate Middleton (2 to 1)
Julie Klausner says: "Kate Middleton! Obviously! Casey Anthony murdered her daughter! Kate Middleton wears hats! This is not a fair bracket."
ELISABETH HASSELBECK VS. LAUREN CONRAD – Elisabeth probably owns stock in Lululemon. Still waiting for LC to display any actual talent. Being famous despite a clear lack of charisma is very basic.
WINNER: Lauren Conrad (2 to 1)
Julie Klausner says: "Lauren Conrad. Hasselbeck is hateful human toilet garbage; Conrad is beige in the form of a person."
SHERYL SANDBERG VS. KOURTNEY KARDASHIAN – Sheryl Sandberg is a strong, successful woman brought down by how inspiring she is to people who share inspirational memes on Facebook. It's really not her fault. I'm sorry, Sheryl. Facing off against her is Kourtney Kardashian. Imagine being the least interesting Kardashian. Imagine.
WINNER: Kourtney Kardashian (2 to 1)
Julie Klausner says: "Again, not fair. Kourtney is obviously more basic. Just because Sheryl Sandberg knows what Mark Zuckerberg likes on his salad doesn’t mean her accomplishments need to dissipate in the shadow of a reality star."
PIPPA MIDDLETON VS. SURI CRUISE – Could we get a mother/daughter showdown in the final? Could we get two sisters in the final four? Can a child who can't legally drive a hybrid actually be basic?
WINNER: Pippa Middleton (3 to 0)
Big Freedia says: "Pippa, for sure. Suri's gonna have all kinds of issues."
ICONS REGION
AUDREY HEPBURN VS. MOTHER TERESA – The Bob Marley of female celebrities, in that most college girls have her poster on their dorm room wall. Mother Teresa is perfect and good in every way.
WINNER: Audrey Hepburn (2 to 1)
Julie Klausner says: "Audrey Hepburn. Major snooze, and responsible for Upper East Side basic bitches in little black dresses who date sociopaths from Goldman Sachs just because, one day, they want to buy a really expensive stroller."
EVA BRAUNVS. SHIRLEY TEMPLE – Gotta be a real beta personality to date the most evil man in history.
WINNER: Eva Braun (3 to 0)
Dave Schilling says: "Eva Braun!"
OLIVA NEWTON JOHN VS. SUSAN BOYLE – Olivia is in this tournament strictly for "Let's Get Physical," both the song and the accompanying music video tragedy. We weep for Susan Boyle.
WINNER: Susan Boyle (3 to 0)
Dave Schilling says: "I dreamed a dream that Susan Boyle would win this tournament. Don't sleep on SuBo!"
JULIE ANDREWS VS. JULIA CHILD – This matchup is kinda like Bosnia vs. Iran in the FIFA World Cup group stage. We just need to get it over with.
WINNER: Julie Andrews (2 to 0, with one abstention)
Julie Klausner says: "Neither one of these bitches are basic! I refuse to vote!"
ROUND 2:
GWYNETH PALTROW VS. ANNE HATHAWAY
WINNER: Gwyneth Paltrow (2 to 1)
Big Freedia says: "Gwyneth is the most boring person on this planet."
JENNIFER ANISTON VS. KATIE HOLMES
WINNER: Jennifer Aniston (3 to 0)
Julie Klausner says: "Jennifer Aniston. Never married into a cult, wears boring outfits the girls you went to high school with think are sexy."
Julie Klausner says: "Too soon to tell, but I guess Rita Ora, just because I've seen many photos of her and I still don't know what she looks like."
KELLY CLARKSON VS. HILARY DUFF
WINNER: Kelly Clarkson (2 to 1)
Dave Schilling says: "Seeing these two together is like taking a big bite of vanilla ice cream covered in peppered gravy. By themselves, they are inoffensive, but having to deal with both at once is an overwhelming experience that is bland and unpleasant at the same time. In this case, I pick gravy over vanilla. Kelly wins."
KATE MIDDLETON VS. LAUREN CONRAD
WINNER: Lauren Conrad (3 to 0)
Julie Klausner says: "Lauren Conrad, who makes me 'Con-sad' when I think of her, but I'm sad for myself because I've wasted my time."
Big Freedia says: "Lauren Conrad. Kate is about to be a queen. I love her."
PIPPA MIDDLETON VS. KOURTNEY KARDASHIAN
WINNER: Kourtney Kardashian (3 to 0)
Julie Klausner says: "Kourtney, who's morally and spiritually invisible."
Big Freedia says: "Kourtney. Isn't she one of the sisters? What's interesting about her?"
AUDREY HEPBURN VS. EVA BRAUN
WINNER: Audrey Hepburn (2 to 0, with one abstention)
Julie Klausner says: "Audrey Hepburn, who's responsible for basic women everywhere wearing black capris."
Big Freedia says: "Never heard of either of them."
JULIE ANDREWS VS. SUSAN BOYLE
WINNER: Susan Boyle (2 to 1)
Dave Schilling says: "Susan Boyle actually has very serious problems in her life, and we probably should leave her alone. I'm sorry, Susan."
ROUND 3:
GWYNETH PALTROW VS. JENNIFER ANISTON
WINNER: Gwyneth Paltrow (2 to 1)
Dave Schilling says: "Gwyneth. This was a total push, but Jennifer Aniston's boyfriend is Justin Theroux, and I guess he's pretty cool. He, like, wears leather jackets on the regular."
KELLY CLARKSON VS. RITA ORA
WINNER: Kelly Clarkson (2 to 1)
Julie Klausner says: "Kelly, whom I can picture in jeans you can buy at a grocery store."
Dave Schilling says: "American Idol winner. Basic Bitch Champion. Has a nice ring to it, doesn't it? I say Kelly. By the way, I highly recommend revisiting From Justin to Kelly. If I ever chose to slowly end my life, Nic-Cage-in-Leaving-Las-Vegas-style, this would be the movie I'd drunkenly fall asleep to. There'd be no chance I'd wake up having second thoughts about deliberately killing myself through alcohol poisoning."
LAUREN CONRAD VS. KOURTNEY KARDASHIAN
WINNER: Lauren Conrad (3 to 0)
Julie Klausner says: "Lauren Conrad. OG of Basic. Poster girl for nothing."
Dave Schilling says: "Kourtney's sister might be O. J. Simpson's love child with Kris Jenner. That makes her slightly edgier, just by association with a convicted felon. LC takes this one by a nose. Kourtney Kardashian's old nose."
AUDREY HEPBURN VS. SUSAN BOYLE
WINNER: Audrey Hepburn (2 to 1)
Julie Klausner says: "Audrey is basically the high priestess of basic because of all the lame girls in ballet flats she inspired."
FINAL FOUR:
GWYNETH PALTROW VS. KELLY CLARKSON
WINNER: Gwyneth Paltrow (2 to 1)
Big Freedia says: "Gwyneth, child. Come on."
Julie Klausner says: "Gwyneth is sort of a John Waters villain. Like, I could see her sucking on David Lochary's toes."
AUDREY HEPBURN VS. LAUREN CONRAD
WINNER: Lauren Conrad (3 to 0)
Julie Klausner says: "Lauren Conrad. Because in five years, or five minutes, you could show somebody who sees her every day a photo of Lauren Conrad, and they'll be like, Who is that?"
Big Freedia says: "I'll say Lauren Conrad. She one of those famous girls with no talent?"
FINALS:
GWYNETH PALTROW VS. LAUREN CONRAD
ULTIMATE BASIC BITCH QUEEN: Gwyneth Paltrow (2 to 1)
Was there ever a question? Gwyneth is the Beyoncé of basics—we can pretend like the rest of the contenders have a chance, but the book has already been written. When even Martha Stewart comes out to throw shade in your direction, it's time to stop fighting your true nature and ascend to the throne. Sometimes, the cream does rise to the top.
Congratulations, Queen Gwen! May your reign bring tasteful home decor and unsolicited life advice to the world!
Meghan Trainor had the No. 1 song in America last week with her debut single "All About That Bass." In it, Trainor sings that she is "All about that bass, 'bout that bass, no treble." She's referring to body types — where "bass" signifies curves — but what if we took her literally?
The answer is this video: there is, it notes, "a shit-ton of treble" in this song. So they created a version of "All about that Bass" that is actually only bass. Trainor sounds like she's trapped in a dishwasher:
So maybe there should be at least a bit of treble. As the video says, moderation is cool!
What is it with heartbreaking animals in movies, books, and TV? It’s getting to the point that whenever an animal is introduced into the cast of something I’m watching or reading, I start waiting for the other shoe to drop. Honorable mention goes out to the Staples of Sadness from our childhoods such as: Old Yeller, Bambi’s mom, Old Dan and Little Ann from Where the Red Fern Grows, Mufasa from The Lion King, and Littlefoot’s mom from The Land Before Time. Here in descending order is a list of the top six flashback-inducing animals that messed me up the most. You’re welcome. Grab some tissues. :-)
6.) Hedwig, The Owl Who Loved Her Boy Who Lived – Harry Potter
What did Hedwig ever do besides hoot softly, carry mail, wait patiently to be let free from her cage, and stay by Harry’s side when he needed her most? Besides being a sweet, devoted pet, Hedwig was also symbolic of Harry’s own deliverance from his life with the Dursleys. Hagrid purchased the snowy white owl for Harry’s eleventh birthday after taking Harry away from his cupboard-under-the-stairs existence, and she stayed with her boy until the last book, when she sacrificed her life to save Harry. According to J.K. Rowling, Hedwig was a symbol of Harry’s innocence. Call me crazy, but the poor kid couldn’t have had all that much innocence left at that point anyway! Did she have to kill his owl too? I remember re-reading it, just to make sure it had really happened, and crying all the tears I hadn’t managed to already bawl out over Sirius Black. Thanks, J.K. Rowling. You broke me, lady.
5.) Artax, The Horse Who Sank Into Despair – The Neverending Story
The Swamps of Sadness. A magical swamp that causes those who travel through it to experience intense, soul-killing sadness. Atreyu, the young hero, and his horse/best friend Artax have to get through the swamp to continue their quest. I remember watching this movie as a kid, thinking that something terrible was about to happen because the music had gone all grim and sad, and then it happened. The horse gets bogged down in the swamp, Atreyu begs him, sobbing his eyes out, to try not to die … and me and my brother are staring at the screen in horror. That music kept playing, Atreyu kept trying to save his friend, and the horse sank, literally, into despair. Needless to say, this movie left me suspicious of the motives of future movies involving horses. Oh, my God – did I mention that that music SOUNDS like misery and drowning horses?
4.) Appa, the Kidnapped and Traumatized Sky Bison – Avatar, the Last Airbender
When Aang and Appa were separated, the emotional trauma went both ways. Watching the usually confident, good-humored Aang search for the only friend who had been with him from the beginning was sad enough, but when the episode “Appa’s Lost Days” aired, the separation was shown mostly without words from Appa’s point of view. You see how mistreatment and fear drive the sky bison so far away from his usual affable self that he’s a frightened shadow of the Appa we’ve come to know and love. Fortunately, Appa did not die, but his distress was so great that he warranted high placement on this list anyway. The reunion is enough to wring tears out of a freaking rock. You don’t separate a boy from his bison!
3.) Alexander the Dog/Nina Tucker the Kid – Fullmetal Alchemist
As if poor Ed hadn’t been through enough, what with losing an arm, a leg, and an entire brother (kind of), he and Al meet up with Mad Science McGee (aka Shou Tucker), who has the most adorable little daughter and the sweetest fluffy white dog … that he chooses to fuse together with some mad, mad alchemy of a most inadvisable nature. Alexander didn’t do anything but be fuzzy and awesome and snuggle his kid. Nina was trusting and cute, and loved her Asshat Science Dad so much more than he deserved. Chimera-Dog-Nina is horrifying, sad, and when the wandering extremist Scar comes across her/it, he mercy-kills her/him so fast it makes your head spin. And leaves Ed traumatized by the bloodstained alley. Not acceptable. Nope.
Not okay. No. Nope.
The Earl of Lemongrab decrees this unacceptable. Try to not read that in his voice. :-)
2.) Samantha, Dr. Robert Neville’s dog - I Am Legend
The minute I saw the dog, I was on edge. Every scene that showed the bond between Will Smith’s character and Samantha the dog ripped my heart open a little bit. You don’t build up a dog-character like that without planning to kill it off later. I saw Turner and Hooch! I watched Marley and Me! Old Yeller, Where the Red Fern Grows … so I should have been ready, right? I should have expected to have to watch Will Smith have to kill his beloved Samantha after she was infected by roving zombie/vampire dog things. I might have been ready for it mentally, but it still packed an emotional sucker punch. At least the kid in Old Yeller got to shoot the now-rabid Yeller from a safe distance. Dr. Robert Neville had to choke Samantha to death with his own hands. Good lord.
1.) Seymour, Fry’s Freaking Dog – Futurama
The saddest thing I’ve ever seen on television is the fate of Seymour, Fry’s dog. When Fry was frozen, Seymour waited outside the pizza place for him for twelve years. The montage of Seymour waiting and waiting while that Connie Francis “I Will Wait For You” song plays literally brings me to tears every single time. Seymour gradually ages, then lays down and closes his eyes. In the distant future, Fry is given the opportunity to clone Seymour and decides against it when he finds out that Seymour died at the age of 15. He assumes that Seymour forgot about him and found a new owner. Not true, Fry! He waited for you! The only comparable tale of devotion that I can think of is Rory, the Boy Who Waited from Doctor Who, and he may have waited longer, but at least it wasn’t all for nothing! Dammit, Seymour! You’re a fictional cartoon dog on a show that is mostly a comedy! Why’d you have to go and break my heart? Yes, I realize that Seymour’s fate was altered in later episodes, but that doesn’t lessen the initial impact.
Sara Goodwin has a B.A. in Classical Civilization and an M.A. in Library Science from Indiana University. Once she went on an archaeological dig and found awesome ancient stuff. Sara enjoys a smorgasbord of pan-nerd entertainment such as Renaissance faires, anime conventions, steampunk, and science fiction and fantasy conventions. In her free time, she writes things like fairy tale haiku, fantasy novels, and terrible poetry about being stalked by one-eyed opossums. In her other spare time, she Tweets, Tumbls, and sells nerdware as With a Grain of Salt Designs.
The first time I saw Crazy, Stupid, Love and the completely unforgettable scene where Ryan Gosling’s character takes off his shirt and Emma Stone’s character says, “It’s like you’re Photoshopped,” I cringed. It wasn’t just that, “OMG, are you effing kidding me,” that came with those abs, but because I just don’t get it. That’s right, I don’t “get” washboard stomachs, six packs, or whatever they’re being called these days. If you put Ryan Gosling and Zach Galifianakis in front of me, I’m going to with Zach, and I’m not going to have to think about it for even a split second. I’m all over that … and his beard.
A recent study commissioned by the release of the film Bad Neighbors, found that when it comes down to women choosing Seth Rogan or Zac Efron, it’s actually guys like Rogan who win the ladies. Three in four British women would rather get their love on with a dude who has some fluff, and96 percent of women “predict a date with an abs-obsessed bloke to be positively dreary.” Well, yeah, is it ever fun to go out with someone who doesn’t order dessert?
But why is this the case? Why is it that when it comes to the real world, the one we want to be with is, well, not so perfect? According to sexpert Tracey Cox, women are scared that they can’t live up to the perfect abs of a perfect man, so we go for the chubby guys instead. I beg to differ, but as one without any schooling in the way of being a sexpert, I’ll keep my thoughts on how women might just prefer humor and substance, as opposed to chiseled abs, to myself.
Says Cox, “Seventy-four percentof women in the survey said they’d feel self-conscious taking their clothes off in front of a perfectly toned man. A he-man’s discipline highlights our lack of it, making us feel even more acutely self-conscious of our own body flaws than usual. We feel far more comfortable with flab because it’s less threatening.”
How we view our bodies takes a huge toll in how we live our lives, even in regards to sex. While women are guilty of avoiding things, including sex, because of their weight, men, according to Cox, will still want to have sex no matter how self-conscious they are about their body. Michael Alvear, author of Not Tonight Dear, I Feel Fat, found that50 percent of women will skip sex, even if they’re in the mood, because they “felt too fat.” It may seem like no big deal, but what happens is that all that dodging of sex can result in a woman losing her sex drive completely. Then where are you? A woman without a sex drive, just because of her fluffiness? No thanks!
Cox says there’s much we can learn from — wait for it — men(!), in regards to how we view ourselves. When men look in the mirror they focus on their assets, and even when shown a photo of someone like, say, Efron, guys usually don’t compare themselves, whereas women are the complete opposite. We can’t seem to see the good stuff in ourselves, and if you show us a photo of any women with a “better” body than us, we’ll crumble to the floor and wonder why we don’t have that awesome ass, those full lips, or that flat stomach. What we end up with is nobody having sex, because we let the society’s standards of beauty manipulate our thinking.
I usually find myself disagreeing with Cox on a lot of things, but this time around she ends her article with an important point about how we should all be more like Seth Rogan and, “learn to love our bellies and accept that wobbly bits are all part of being mere mortals.” It’s very true; being human means being imperfect. And if being imperfect means you order dessert after dinner, then I don’t see why anyone would want to be any other way.
Los Picantes sing a cueca about being an expatriate - La Cueca del Patiperro, including one paya dedicated to those flying the flag abroad, wherever you are!
For the more classical taste, some more cuecas you may recognize: These are two of my personal favorites: Los Lagos de Chile, (aka. Pirihueiii!, "The Lakes of Chile"), and Jaime Atria's La Consentida ("The Spoiled One").
Or how could we forget Violeta Parra's Cueca de los poetas ("The Poets' Cueca", with subtitles).
And since we're looking South, here's a bunch of chilote superhits featuring clever wives and sassy girls being courted: El Curanto ("Get up, you lazy fisherman!"), celebrating Chiloé Island's typical barbecue-in-a-hole. Then, there is a cheerful ode to La Tejedora, the wise women weaving the fisher's net. And next to last, but not least, La Trastrasera (here performed by the talented young dancers of Jardín Bambi, as it is performed every year in September, in every pre-school and kindergarden across the country.)
Finally, Jorge Yánez singing the sad waltz of a wool hat, its faded colors in the rain a metaphor for fading love.
The Scottish independence vote means that Scotland is occupying an unusually central spot on the world stage, and people around the world are becoming caught up in its internal debate over whether to separate from the UK.
If the referendum, which will be decided at the polls today, is inspiring you to embrace Scottish culture, you'll want to make sure you do it right. Wondering when it's appropriate to wear a kilt, or what poem one traditionally reads when serving a haggis? Considering whether entering the Highland games could be a way to relive the glory days of your high school track and field career? Here's what you need to know.
1. What is haggis?
Uncooked haggis, ready for purchase. (FlickreviewR)
Haggis is a Scottish dish that is basically a weird, rotund sausage. It's made by mincing up sheep organ meat (usually the heart, lungs, and liver — sheep giblets, basically), mixing it with diced onion, oats, salt, spices, and fat, and stuffing it into a sheep's stomach, which is then tied shut.
Haggis is usually boiled, but it can also be roasted, fried, sliced into a "burger" that's served on a bun, or even crumbled on top of pizza.
It's traditional to serve haggis on January 25, Burns Night, which celebrates the work of Robert Burns, Scotland's national poet. A traditional Burns supper consists of "haggis, neeps, and tatties" — haggis, turnips, and potatoes. As the food is served, a guest may recite Burns' famous poem "Address to a Haggis."
Although haggis sounds like the weirdest of foods, it isn't any more peculiar than other forms of sausage (about which I recommend you not think too hard). I've eaten it, and while it's hardly my favorite food, the taste is fine if it's prepared well.
If you live in the US, you'll have to take my word on that: the US banned haggis imports in 1971.
2. What are bagpipes?
Bagpipes and drums are played during the 2013 Edinburgh Military Tattoo. (Edinburgh Military Tattoo)
The bagpipes, a traditional Scottish instrument, are pretty much exactly what their name suggests: a bag attached to some pipes. To play the bagpipes, the piper must keep the bag inflated by blowing into it, while steadily squeezing air out through the pipes and playing a melody on the "chanter" pipe, which has different holes that can be covered to play different notes. Unsurprisingly, it's pretty hard to do all that at the same time, so it takes years of study to become a successful piper.
Although bagpipes are most commonly associated with warfare in the Scottish Highlands hundreds of years ago, they were used in wars as recently as the 20th century. During World War II, Highland regiments were accompanied by pipers during the Second Battle of El Alamein, in Egypt. In 1967, during the Aden Crisis in what is now Yemen, Lieutenant-Colonel Colin Campbell-Mitchell, a.k.a. "Mad Mitch," was accompanied by pipers playing "Scotland the Brave" as he re-took the Crater district of Aden.
Tartan is what Americans refer to as "plaid" — a pattern made by lines of different colors and thicknesses crossing each other at right angles on top of a contrasting background. Specific tartan patterns are associated with particular clans and military units, serving as a sort of woolly fabric coat of arms that identifies each one.
Tartans were primarily regional patterns until the mid-19th century, when the wide availability of synthetic dyes combined with the Victorians' love of romanticizing Scotland to make clan-specific tartans a thing.
4. What are kilts?
A group of men wearing traditional Scottish kilts (Ekaterina Pokrovsky/Shutterstock)
Kilts are knee-length wool garments, which are usually pleated in the back. They are notably similar to skirts in shape and function, but they're often worn by men who might get upset if you refer to their clothes as skirts. They're usually made of wool, in a tartan pattern.
Today, kilts are not usually worn as everyday clothing, but they are incorporated into formalwear and worn to weddings, balls, and other gatherings. They're also frequently worn to Scottish sporting and cultural events, such as the Scottish national soccer team's matches and Highland games events. As formalwear, they're usually part of an ensemble that includes a jacket, shirt, knee socks, and sporran - a small purse worn around the waist, which is often made of animal fur. However, they may be worn with just a t-shirt on more casual occasions.
Sir Sean Connery, in a snappy kilt ensemble. (Sylvain Gaboury/FilmMagic/Getty Images)
The term "true Scotsman" is used to refer to someone who wears his kilt without underwear, although many men, including Wimbledon champion Andy Murray, have decided that adherence to tradition isn't worth the itch. Scottish Tartan Authority director Brian Wilton has taken a firmly pro-underwear stance, saying that "sending children up chimneys is traditional, too, but we don't do it now, and the same should apply to wearing nothing under a kilt."
5. What is the Mull of Kintyre test?
A partial map of Scotland, with the Mull of Kintyre highlighted in red. (FinnWikiNo)
The Mull of Kintyre is a peninsula on the west coast of Scotland that supposedly inspired a decency test for British films. The "Mull of Kintyre test" was a standard supposedly applied by the British Board of Film Classification in the 1990s, in order to determine whether an image of a penis was too obscene to be shown on British screens. The theory behind the test, as the legend goes, was that penises in a state of arousal were obscene, so the shape of Mull of Kintyre was used as the standard for when a particular erection had gone too far.
According to the Telegraph, "If the 'Davy Crockett' in question was roused to the point where the incline was greater than that of the Mull of Kintyre (the 'angle of the dangle'), there would be swift case of cinematic "Bobbitism" and the offending article cut by the censors quicker than you could say 'In the Realm of the Senses'."
The BBFC has denied that the Mull of Kintyre test ever existed. In any case, however, the UK now takes a much more permissive approach to penises on film. So if the test was used in the past, it's not needed anymore.
6. Is Scotland's national animal really the Unicorn?
The Scottish version of the Royal Coat of Arms, with Scotland's unicorn on the left (Richard Laschon/Shutterstock)
Yes, Scotland's national animal really is the unicorn. The mythical beast appears on the Royal Coat of Arms alongside the lion, England's national animal. There are two versions of the Coat of Arms — the one for use in Scotland has the unicorn on the left, while the one for the rest of the UK has the unicorn on the right. (That means that if you're ever trying to figure out whether you're in Scotland or in England, you can just look for a coat of arms.)
According to the Scotsman, "in Celtic mythology, the Unicorn of Scotland symbolized innocence and purity, healing powers, joy, and even life itself, and was also seen as a symbol of masculinity and power."
7. Why does Scotland have more awesome versions of regular animals?
Highland cows: 100% more awesome than regular cows. (Aconcagua)
It's not just unicorns — Scottish animals have real flair across the board. Blame Scotland's relatively cold climate.
Highland cows, for instance, are bred to be extra fluffy so that they can thrive in chilly weather. They're hardy and able to live in rocky terrain that wouldn't support other cattle breeds. Because their hair keeps them warm, they don't have to rely on fat to maintain their body temperatures, leading to meat that is very lean. And, of course, they're pretty adorable.
Shetland ponies modeling cardigans knitted from Shetland wool: 100% more awesome than regular ponies that lack sweaters.
Shetland ponies have likewise managed to take the lemons of cold, rocky terrain and turn them into the lemonade of adorableness. The Shetland Islands are an unforgiving environment, but the horses developed a small stature and thick coat that allowed them to survive harsh winters with little food.
Wikipedia describes Shetland ponies as having a "brave" character as well as a tendency to be "very opinionated or cheeky" and sometimes "impatient," "snappy," and "uncooperative," which leads me to believe that they'd be pretty good at blogging if they ever learned to type.
8. Why does Scotland have its own sports teams if it's part of the UK?
The Tartan Army sings "O Flower of Scotland" before a match against Wales in Cardiff.
Scotland doesn't field its own teams in all international competitions, but it usually does for specific sports. During the Olympics, for instance, Scottish athletes compete for Great Britain, not Scotland. However, Scotland has its own teams that compete internationally in sports like soccer, rugby, and cricket.
This is partly because of history, and partly because of national pride. In the case of soccer and rugby, for instance, England and Scotland invented international matches and played the first ones against each other, so they have always had their own teams. And since those early days, a sense of national pride and competitiveness has meant that each country wanted to keep its own team.
Scottish soccer fans are known as the "Tartan Army," and they refer to the English as the "auld enemy." Scotland used to play England every year, but the games were suspended in 1989 amidst fears of hooliganism — at the time, English fans had such serious problems with violence that English club teams were banned from European play, and there were concerns that Scotland-England matches would provoke problems. Now they only play each other as part of larger tournaments.
Scotland fans are known for singing "O Flower of Scotland," an unofficial national anthem, to which they add shouted callbacks (like "what for?" and "BASTARD!") when they get to the parts about the English king's armies being routed in the 14th century. So that's pretty fun.
9. What are Highland games?
Highland games are a traditional Scottish sporting and cultural event. Although they're frequently held in Scotland, there are now Highland games tournaments held all over the world.
Most Highland games also feature traditional music and dancing, but they're most associated with a series of events in which competitors lift heavy things up and then throw them as far as they can. These include the caber toss (in which competitors attempt to launch a tree-length log into the air so that it turns end-over-end and lands in a perfect 12 o'clock position), the stone put (like a shot put, but with a heavy rock instead of a shot), the Scottish hammer (very similar to the track & field hammer throw), and the sheaf toss (in which competitors use a pitchfork to launch a burlap bag filled with straw over a high bar).
The Loch Ness Monster, affectionately known as "Nessie" by her many fans, is a mythical animal who supposedly lives in Loch Ness, a large freshwater lake in the Highlands. The hunt for Nessie is one of the most famous examples of cryptozoology, a pseudoscientific discipline involving the hunt for mythical animals. (Other examples include Bigfoot and the Yeti.)
Although there's no evidence that Nessie is real, Loch Ness certainly is, and it's beautiful. If you're ever in Scotland, it's well worth a visit.
A man gets trapped inside a telephone box. Onlookers unsuccessfully try to free him. Then the men from the telephone company arrive, but relief turns into puzzlement, then horror, as it transpires what they have in store for him.
La Cabino is a film constructed on simplicity and brilliance. The story about a man trapped inside a public phone-booth starts off as a comedy and then gradually spirals into a surreal nightmare from which there seems no escape. This short film is rich in symbols and metaphors about loneliness and alienation in the urban landscape. How ironic that we have our main protagonist trapped, like a fly inside a glass jar, he wants to communicate his terror but the telephone is out-of-order and we bear witness to his growing unease and dread. Human dialogue is kept to a bare minimum and it feels like a silent film with a dream-like quality which becomes claustrophobic.
This stark film has an atmosphere that sears the mind and emotions of viewers and the residue it leaves behind remains long after the film has finished. The haunting and creepy cinematography is suffused with suspense and unseen menace. Terror prowls about as we watch with dried mouths. A complete masterpiece of the genre that would have Hitchcock turning livid with envy.
Contraceptives fail a lot more often than you may have realized. Those failure rate statistics that you see are actually a bit misleading — they are for failure rates in a given year. Over time, the risk of failure is compounded.
No, this comic by cartoonist Ryan Estrada and writer Peter Starr Northrop won't have you magically understanding the Russian language, but if you've ever stared at Russian words in Cyrillic script and wondered just how the hell you pronounce them, this will get you started.
Brewing beer in your home can be as simple, or as complicated, as you want to make it. Here, we're going to present the simple way. There is a lot of science you can get into, but we're going to skip a lot of that as there are a lot of people who can tell you about it a lot better than we can. And they have books out (John Palmer's How to Brew (online), and Charlie Papazian's The Complete Joy of Homebrewing). We'd recommend reading these books at some point. You'll learn a lot about why everything happens, how brewing really works and just a lot more in-depth information. If you want to make this a serious hobby, those are two can't miss books.
In this article, though, we're going to run through step-by-step how to brew in a small kitchen setting. We know many of you live in apartments (we do), and we've heard too many people say they can't brew because of this. You can! We know this, because we do it. We'll show you how to go about brewing your first batch. Plus, we're including pictures to really show you how it's done. So, let's get brewing!
As the Scottish independence debate comes to a close with Thursday's vote, the No—or pro-United Kingdom—campaign has been getting out the big guns. 400 Scottish military veterans have warned that the Scottish military would be “irresponsibly weakened” with a Yes vote, saying that people should vote No to “Protect the homeland." I guess there’s nothing like the threat of being crushed in a war to stop you from dreaming of making a fresh start.
With that in mind I decided to ask an expert how pathetic or heroic a Scottish army would look, and how easy it would be to take over the country if it became independent, crushing its dreams of freedom under the track of a big tank. On the day Scottish independence crusader Alex Salmond and British Prime Minister David Cameron announced that the referendum was happening, Stuart Crawford and a colleague published a report for the Royal United Services Institute looking at defense in an independent Scotland. A career soldier of nearly 20 years, Crawford once served as the defense spokesman for the Scottish National Party but now intends to stand as a candidate for the English Liberal Democrats. I thought he would be a good person to ask about this stuff, so I called him for a chat.
VICE: So to start with, what might the threats to an independent Scotland actually be? Stuart Crawford: Well, while I wouldn't want us to be a hostage to fortune, I think there's no foreseeable, credible conventional military threat to an independent Scotland. The chance of anyone trying to attack or invade us seems infinitesimally small.
That being said, Scotland does have a number of things which other nations might covet—primarily our oil and gas reserves. No one's going to invade us to steal our whisky and they're not likely to take our tourism industry by force. I don't think they're going to take our wind turbines either, however much that might please some people. But then what did people say about the Falklands in 1980? Who foresaw the current situation in Ukraine? It's not just the most obvious military threats that countries need to be concerned about.
In the event of a Yes vote, Scotland would have to negotiate a share of the existing British military. What might the resulting force look like?
Well, I'm certain that Scotland could organize its own defense policy and armed forces. There's no doubt about that—we're not a stupid people. On the other hand, we couldn't expect to walk away with anything like a miniature version of the UK's defense system. We're just too small for that. Some of Britain's military assets are currently based in Scotland, and obviously some are not. Others, like the Trident nuclear weapons system, are here in spite of the fact that we don't want them.
So how would Scotland's new army, navy and air force look?
I would expect the army to consist of two brigades, each of around 5,000 soldiers, one regular and one reserve.
For the air force, you'd be talking about around 60 aircraft all told and a navy of 20 to 25 hulls.
In terms of high-end equipment, you would expect to see things like fast jets, submarines, aircraft carriers and main battle tanks [taken] out of Scotland in the short to medium term. Apart from anything else, they'd be very costly for the country to maintain.
In its early days the Scottish defense force might also lack helicopters, artillery, engineering equipment and the like. The other issue that you would probably face is in recruiting special forces, which would be required for situations like rescuing hostages or securing oil rigs. You'd need about 75, but they're very difficult to recruit.
And while we can train people on their feet, in the air and at sea in Scotland, we have nowhere suitable for the training of mechanized units and no facilities in place to train officers. It's not unheard of to do training abroad, and it would make sense to arrange for the use of facilities like the Royal Military Academy at Sandhurst, which already trains overseas cadets, and the British Army Training Unit in Suffield, Canada.
My personal view is that the resulting force would be much more about home defense than any overseas operations—although we would probably wish to retain that capability at least as an option for future governments.
How certain is it that serving Scottish personnel would want to transfer to the new Scottish forces? Might some of them want to honor their oath and continue serving the United Kingdom?
I don't know quite how a transfer would be effected. It seems to me that the Scottish Government assumes that the Scottish regiments would immediately secede to Scotland. That's quite a big assumption. If you assume for the sake of argument that personnel were given the choice, then some would and some wouldn't.
Which countries' armies would Scotland's be equivalent to?
I really don't know in terms of direct comparisons. There are the larger states, of course, but in terms of countries with comparable armed forces Scotland would lie somewhere between Ireland, which has minimal forces, and Denmark, which is considerably more capable. We might also be comparable with New Zealand. It's difficult to say with any certainty because until there's been a negotiation with the rest of the UK—we don't know exactly what the composition of the Scottish defense force would be.
If you were given the task of invading Scotland, how would you go about it?
It's really not something I've ever given any thought to, but there is a pattern to how these things are done. First you would have to suppress air defenses. That could be done either physically or electronically as the Americans did in Iraq. You would then have to disrupt communications—physical communications, which would include things like the Forth Road Bridge and the Kingston Bridge, which is said to be the busiest traffic bridge in Europe, and electronic communications as well.
Then you would look to seize key points. There are several in Scotland—airports would be among the more obvious ones. All of that would depend on disabling air defenses though, and it's difficult to know exactly how that could be achieved because we don't know for certain what those defenses would be.
And if Scotland became a member of NATO, then under Article 5 an attack against one member state would be considered an attack against all. Scotland's international alliances would unquestionably be its strongest defense.
In recent years there have been incidents involving Russian vessels and aircraft around Scotland and the rest of the UK. Why are they prodding us and what could an independent Scotland do about it?
Those incidents mainly involve aircraft, and it's part and parcel of what's been going on since the end of the Second World War. They put a couple of aircraft up, approach UK airspace, and see what happens. They're testing our reaction times. It would really be a case of having reaction forces always there to say: “We know what you're doing and we're here to stop you doing it.”
If Vladimir Putin decided to annex Scotland, could he do it?
I don't think the Americans would let him do it. That would be a direct attack. So much depends on whether Scotland would be a part of NATO, but even if it wasn't, it would be a direct attack on a country where influence could be brought to bear on the UK, the North Sea and the North Atlantic.
But hypothetically, purely as a comparison of forces?
Oh, of course he could. If you put Scotland in a vacuum and let Russia attack then we would last maybe a day.
Let's say there's a Yes vote and England decides it wants us back—how hard would it be for them to take Scotland back by force?
You know, I really don't think that's very probable.
No. But could it happen?
Well it wouldn't be a walk in the park. Obviously Scotland's military would be much smaller than the rest of the UK's. It would depend on when it happened, how well established the Scottish defense force had become. It would also depend again on international alliances, but Scotland and the remaining UK would be far more likely to work in coalition than in opposition.
The author having her photo taken at London Fashion Week. Photos by Henry Gorse
Anyone with pants and a smartphone can be a fashion blogger. Put some clothes on, take a photo of yourself, upload it to Instagram (tagged with #OOTD for easy clarification), and follow it up with a picture of some ladybug nail art or a bottle of aloe vera juice. There you go: you did it! You’re basically Tavi Gevinson!
If you really want, you could always round that off with a vlog of your latest department-store haul and a $20 lip-loss giveaway, and you’d be well on your way to 8,000 Twitter followers and a paid Mooncup banner ad.
However, that side of fashion blogging is essentially just pointing your iPhone at a mirror. Where it gets slightly trickier is managing to disseminate your personal brand onto blogs that you don't operate yourself—blogs run by people who write guest columns in weekend supplements and splash the best part of their fee on camera lenses they don't really need.
Ahead of Fashion Week, I set myself a challenge: spend £10 ($16) a day on the dumbest outfits I could put together, and see if I could get papped by one of those people. Granted, Fashion Week is the largest annual gathering of street style bloggers, so the chances of having your photo taken are tripled by merely turning up and loitering near the Vitaminwater fridge.
But my thinking was that if I—a 22-year-old who accessorizes with Lord of the Rings paraphernalia and yellowing festival wristbands – could make my way onto a fashion blog, then so could anyone.
On the Friday morning, Henry—the photographer—and I went on the hunt for outfits. Turns out charity shops in my neighborhood aren’t cheap. We drained a whole day’s budget on a fake Liverpool jacket, some vanilla New Look heels, and a few crispy pairs of men’s socks.
But once we got to East London's Brick Lane, and its abundance of Bangladeshi mini-marts and off licenses, our luck changed. There was a bunch of bargain-bucket stuff that I’d never seen under one roof before—plastic handcuffs, bindis, imported intimate wash. Cultural appropriation can come at a staggering cost, but here it was pocket change.
After picking up some shimmery silver material and a roll of pink and purple synthetic fur—both of which I intended to turn into something vaguely wearable—we were fast running out of cash, so we checked some dumpsters for freebies. Lucky for us, people just don't seem to care about broken neon glasses and barely functioning alarm clocks as much as they used to, so into the bags they went.
On top of Henry’s roof, the wind in my fur, I looked the worst I’d ever looked in my life. Like a bloated Furby at a Shitdisco concert.
Still, I had a job to do, so I spent the entire tube journey to central London imagining we were off to the launch of a new Peruvian restaurant (very fashion, according to some of the blogs I'd researched) in an effort to get into character.
Walking through the arches to the Somerset House courtyard, it was exactly as I’d imagined: flustered PRs waving clipboards, bewildered European tourists and lots of well-dressed people pretending to check their phones, glancing up any time someone with a DSLR came within snapping distance.
As I trotted around, a few photographers began to perk up. “Are you a blogger?” they asked. “Yes,” I lied.
Some asked where my pieces were from. I told them most of my outfit was vintage Vivienne Westwood, because she’s the only one I know. They all nodded enthusiastically, and one man said, “Oh yes, I remember this bag. A big one that year.”
I know women’s lifestyle mags always harp on about statement pieces, but I could never have predicted the reaction my plug necklace got. Everyone wanted to know where I’d bought it, and most seemed genuinely impressed when I told them I’d made it myself.
‘This fashion business is very strange,’ I thought, as someone handed me a free bottle of “beauty water” that supposedly contained collagen and looked a bit like the glitter body sprays I used to buy from Claire’s. I had a sip. I didn’t feel any more beautiful, but it did make my mouth foamy.
I was pleased with the first day’s progress; people were taking me seriously, despite the fact that I was wearing one knee-length golfing sock and holding an alarm clock. But with only five or six portraits under my belt, I knew I could do much better.
On the Monday (I skipped Saturday and Sunday, because the weekend is for sleeping and avoiding central London) I had no real statement pieces to catch anyone's eye—just some thigh-high socks, short-shorts and very old football gear.
However, I'd been researching some blogs for posing tips and was confident enough in my newfound ability that I didn't have to resort to the traditional hallmarks of an online couture queen, like England beanies or wearable plug sockets. All I had to do was tilt my head down, smile coyly and slump, with my hand resting wherever felt sassiest.
These two really took to my socks, presumably not noticing the well-baked stains that were scratching away at my thigh.
For the whole time I was there, I felt like bonafide blogger royalty, as gross as that sentence is. Twice as many people approached me – perhaps because my outfit wasn't quite as shit (I've seen people actually dressed like this in Camberwell and Clapton)—and when I got back to work everyone said I looked cool, which never happens.
By the final day, I’d decided to go all out. No more fuzzy DIY jumpers or Sports Direct archives; on Tuesday, I was all about high fashion. The one black glove was something I thought might be cool in the fashion world, before realising (on arrival at Somerset House) that it's probably not cool in any world.
Henry thought I needed black lipstick, but we didn’t have any budget left for Barry M, so I used my Collection 2000 liquid eyeliner instead.
Stepping through the arches for the last time, a PR for a large chain of high street hairdressers recognized me and took me aside. Thirty minutes later, I was out of my brief VIP experience with a goodie bag full of stuff and some weird, temporarily dyed hair.
Drunk on the free prosecco rolling around my empty stomach, I went for a walk around the cobbles.
Multicoloured hair and silver capes are clearly in right now—photographers were flocking to me like hungry freelancers around the canapés at a press launch.
In fact, the only time I ran into any problems was when people started asking for my blog address. Thinking on my feet, I swatted them off with some incomprehensible mumbles about copycat accounts and advertising issues, and asked them to just tag my Instagram account instead.
Around this point, as a man got very close to my face to shoot “some detail," a passing boy in a leather cloak called me a “wannabe cunt." Which I didn’t think was very fair. Frankly, by now I was anything but a wannabe; at least 30 photographers thought my $16 outfits were proficient enough to justify pointing a camera at them.
Though it did make me wonder, did anyone actually think I looked good, or were they just pretending to get it? Was the guy sashaying shade in my direction right—a sartorial truther blowing my lies wide open?
Whatever the answer to that very important question, I know one thing for sure: that the whole experience was nauseatingly self-indulgent. But very fun all the same; it’s no wonder so many people want in.
For most, of course, it’s a pretend job—a façade to bolster their online validation, to trick their Instagram followers into believing they regularly receive goodie bags full of revitalizing hair mist and Givenchy tote bags, or whatever it is these people get excited about. That said, become one of the blogging elite and it might be your ticket to a branding/PR/DJ gig that could fund your Friday nights until you’re at least 25.
Unfortunately, doing that is slightly harder than I first thought. Which obviously makes a lot of sense—I neglected the whole setting up a blog and building a fan-base thing, and focused far too hard on perfecting my resting bitch face in the hope that someone established would take my picture, allowing me to just rise through the ranks off the back of that. But for all the photos people took of me, I couldn't find one on any of the blogs I'd set out to make. Turns out people who've spent eight years running highly successful blogs have some kind of editorial policy that excludes anyone clearly fucking with them.
So what did I learn about the world of fashion blogging? That it’s a pastime no different from any other I’ve come across. Believe your own hype, and you can be anyone you want to be.
Follow Hannah Ewens on Twitter, and see more of Henry Gorse's photos here.
Já temos desenhado o menú de petiscos para desgustar na Festa 9 aniversário do Pichel. Menú desenhado pola comissom gastronómica com as suas melhores receitas. Muitas de estas tiradas dos monográficos de cozinha que fam ao longo do ano. Haverá:
Totopos com guacamole
Burek sa krompirom (rolinhos croatas)
Sushi
Tosta de salpicom
Tosta de salmom e queijo
Tosta de queijo de cabra e mel
Tosta de escalivada
Tortilha recheia
Brownie a guiness
Torta de queijo
Torta de maçá
Torta de amendoa e chocolate
A wonderful set this evening, can't remember from where I got it, back in the day I was collecting psych comps from various blogs almost daily, honestly don't recall the source for this one.....the full title is "Psychedelic Portugal-Hard Psych and Prog from the Portugal Underground Psych Scene, 1968-74"......if you are a fan of foreign language (only some of it, some is English) psych/prog, this is a fairly unknown gem that you will want to attack. Just gave it a refresher listen today, it's a REALLY good one and comes with my highest recommendation for this type of thing......if you scan the track/artist listing, there may not be anything that jumps out at you, but "A Story" by Ex- Libris is a real winner, "Stand By" from Pop Music Five, Inc, echoes the great Nuggets garage psych sound, The Heavy Band (!) contributes "Funky", The Chinchillas "Barbarella" is a standout, hell it's all great, can't beleive I've never popped this one up before when I was in one of those moods where I didn't want to do much work.........seriously, this is a keeper......
The summer television season used to be reserved for the ignoble combination of network miscalculations and obligatory burn offs as the Big Four reserved their more acclaimed pilots for the prestigious fall season. Luckily, the television landscape is slowly evolving. While the upcoming spate of new network sitcoms suggest that the low end of the dial may be clinging to the cozy confines of the familiar, FX’s freshman series You’re the Worst has embraced the allure of the unknown and, in the process, has quietly delivered the most entertaining comedy of the year.
![bizcocho-de-almendra-y-mandarina-1_thumb[2]](http://gentalha.org/wp-content/uploads/2014/09/bizcocho-de-almendra-y-mandarina-1_thumb2.jpg)
