You, ol’ boy, have always been a curmudgeonly, conflicted, narcissistic, arrogant little cunt of a man. A curmudgeonly, conflicted, narcissistic, arrogant little cunt with the voice of a silvery angel, but a cunt nonetheless. And maybe that’s what most people love about you. In an age where most rock stars are just reality-star-husbands-in-training or rehab seat fillers, it’s quite a rarity for a music persona to commit fully to the persona, and completely reject being a real person. So the magical music man that is less a man than an endless well of contradictions can be a welcome reprieve, a thing to be endlessly fascinated by, a mystery perpetually left unsolved: A fay macho-guy. A gaudy, attention-whoring recluse. A bitter-tongued poet. A bleak dreamer. A senescent child.

In the decades that I have followed you and your work, I’ve always rationalized that the element anchoring all of your wild idiosyncrasies–the extreme beliefs and outlandish statements, offensively defensive attitude, insistence on flapping that damn mic cord all around the stage like a lasso while every other performer in the world has gone wireless–was intelligence. You are a self-taught educated man. A smart man. A man of many nuances.

How then, did this comment, made to poet and Guardian writer Simon Armitage, come to pass?

“Did you see the thing on the news about their treatment of animals and animal welfare? Absolutely horrific. You can’t help but feel that the Chinese are a subspecies.”

Let’s not even start by saying that this is one of the more loaded statements ever uttered by a Love Hate Music Racism spokesman. Your opinions, based on the cultural behavior of a nation, have caused you to make a categorical conclusion about its people’s biology, assessing a nationality but judging a race. And let’s be real here, when you criticize “the Chinese,” it has much larger ethnic implications –and by referring to the Chinese as a “subspecies,” you basically contend that anything from that lineage (like, say, Chinese Americans) are subhuman.

But really, after all, if you really do empathize  with all occupants of the lower taxonomic orders more than the homo sapien, perhaps your affections and sympathies really belong with said subspecies.

Maybe you’re not so smart after all. Or old age also turned that tongue of yours, once a skilled whittling knife, into a dull axe. OR maybe it’s simply too much to ask that someone so averse to being human refrain from dehumanizing others.

Little man, what now?

Regards,
Diana

[via HuffPo]
[Guardian: Morrissey Interview - Big Mouth Strikes Again]

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Thanks, Cate and Anthony!

Hails from: Ptown

Occupation: Graphic designer, Tumblr theme creator, blogger, Portland State University student

Why He’s A Babe: Sure, he’s athletic–a former competitive swimmer. And he loves cute things. He’s a crunchy, friendly, proud Pacific Northwesterner. And he’s got the coolest last name this side of Wang.

This guy manages not one blog, not two blogs–and nope, not just three blogs. Oh, I’m sorry, did I just type “just three blogs?” I meant, “HOW THE HELL DOES THIS GUY GO TO SCHOOL AND SOCIAL NETWORK AND SPEND TIME OUTDOORS BEING ALL OREGONY AND SIMULTANEOUSLY RUN MULTIPLE TUMBLR BLOGS WHEN I ALMOST HAVE A WEEKLY MELTDOWN JUST TRYING TO KEEP ONE FRICKIN’ BLOG UP AND RUNNING, AND I HAVE A PARTNER!??”

I don’t know, but something about the new millennium has made “multitasking” one of man’s most attractive qualities. Hunson is quite the multitasker.

[Tumblr Staff: Hunson Nguyen]
[Hunson Is Groovy]

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Oh wait, that was a Full House episode or something. My mom never gave me the talk. Like, NEVER. We NEVER TALKED ABOUT SEX.

I mean, when my sister ran away from the house her senior year in ‘88 to stay with her awesomely white trash boyfriend’s awesomely white trash family, a long period ensued during which my aunts and mom would call each other from their respective homes in Michigan, Indiana, Missouri and California to speak in hushed tones about the filthy indiscretions. “Your sister, she lays with boys,” my aunt said to me while I was playing with my Barbies. “No man will ever marry her.” (She was wrong, by the way.)

When I was 17 and snuck my then-beau up into my second-story Southern California bedroom, my mom became suspicious at a noise and barreled down the hall, bursting through my door. He swiftly jumped to a hiding spot and I was discovered alone, laying awkwardly atop my fully made bed in a star-patterned bra and panties, looking guilty. My mom was confused and disturbed. She looked me in the eye and said, “You’re… I… I know what you do.” She left the room with no further talk about sex, even though my night probably included it.

I think the conversation, if we’d ever had one, would have been one-sided: “Don’t have sex.” Conversation over.

Hyphen Magazine recently addressed this kind of no-talk policy in an article called “Asian-American Women Who Accept Abortion as a Way Out.” Writer Lisa Wong Macabasco explores how deeply ingrained the denial of sex is in Asian cultures, and how categorical aversion to sex (or proof of it) has shaped generous Eastern attitudes towards drastic measures like abortion over generations. In short: abortion is less shameful than the truly disgraceful act that it functions to hide, sex.

But for Asian Americans, whose familial cultural values are at constant odds with environmental Western ones, the denial can become dangerous. Macabasco cites Asian Americans as the second-highest racial/ethnic group in the country for pregnancies ending in abortion, at 35%. Kinda shocking, right? It seems downright silly that a population of would-be med students could also be plagued with such a high rate of unexpected pregnancies. It’s not like everyone thinks babies come from storks, do they?

Hard to say. We never talk about it.

[Hyphen: Asian-American Women Who Accept Abortion as a Way Out]

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JESSE JAMES: Yep, great.

KAT VON D: You look so good, baby.

JESSE JAMES: Good, baby.

KAT VON D: I can’t believe how much I love you.

JESSE JAMES: Um, you’re great.

KAT VON D: And it’s almost like, why didn’t we do this before? We’re perfect for each other!

JESSE JAMES: Yep. Did they take our picture yet? I kinda hate this shit.

KAT VON D: We’re like the “bad boy” and “bad girl” of reality TV, we both have inked sleeves, we both go to Discovery network conglomerate parties, we both live in California—

JESSE JAMES: I like your dress.

KAT VON D: I’m just saying, it’s like kismet or something.

JESSE JAMES: Did you think People Magazine was being weird when they interviewed us? Or were they just being normal and I’m all hypersensitive?

KAT VON D: I don’t think they were being weird. And I don’t care what anybody thinks, baby! I don’t care about your past! All I care about is how I feel about you, and about us. You’re only like, my ninth boyfriend EVER. I would only call somebody I have really good sex with my boyfriend.

JESSE JAMES: When they talked to you, did they mention anything like, “people don’t hate Jesse as much anymore?” Or like, “Sandy Bullock really regrets breaking up with Jesse and keeps trying to get him back?”

KAT VON D: Um, no.

JESSE JAMES: Well did you tell them about how I bought you that chocolate pinup doll? And gave you that rose yesterday? And how I opened your car door?

KAT VON D: I think I said something about Scrabble…

JESSE JAMES: And what did they say?

KAT VON D: They didn’t say anything, Jesse. Was I supposed to tell them how many times you take a dump every day, too?

JESSE JAMES: I just want to know if they think I’m a nice guy.

KAT VON D: [snuggles in close] Well, I certainly think you’re a nice guy.

JESSE JAMES: Ooh, did you say that to them?

KAT VON D: NO I DIDN’T FUCKING SAY THAT TO THEM. What are you getting at?

JESSE JAMES: Nothing, nothing.

KAT VON D: Okay, good.

JESSE JAMES: Well… has your publicist said anything about us doing a show together or anything? Maybe I could come in and get something done at your shop, and it could be a special episode or something.

KAT VON D: You want to be on my show?

JESSE JAMES: You should have seen me on Celebrity Apprentice.

KAT VON D: I think we’re done here.

[People: Kat Von D - I'm In Love With Jesse James]

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via bruna benvegnu

Dude, why so sad?

Why don’t you go buy yourself a present? Like a new Apple product?  That always makes us feel better.

via Xenohub

No? Well then, how about you go hang with the Old Spice Guy? He smells really, really good, and maybe some of his Swagger will rub off on you (not a gay reference, BTW, we’d never do that on your bday)?

Hmm.

Oh, oh! We’ve got it. Go cuddle up next to a giant panda! That NEVER fails.

via annadraconida

Sigh. Okay, Keanu. Have it your way. Here’s wishing you a sad, sad, motherfuckin sad birthday, buddy.

Happy now?

Jesus, you’re complicated.

[photos via Know Your Meme and Sad Keanu]

How you gonna stick the hotties in the back and the uglies up front? (Upon further investigation, Alex O’Loughlin, who’s front and center, is pretty cute, but in that ad you can’t tell and, moreover, it looks like he just ate a bad burrito filled with rancid goat meat.)

At least our boyfriend Daniel Dae Kim is holding a nice, thick, um, shotgun.

The second show billboard, however, is like Baby Bear’s bed: just right.

Here’s hoping the show takes place entirely during Hawaii’s rainy season!

[photos via Alex O'Loughlin Rocks! and The Hollywood Reporter]

Radical environmentalist James Jay Lee held up hostages at gunpoint in the Discovery Channel building in Maryland today for several hours in order to make a statement about their programming. He had a long-documented history of protesting Discovery’s material.





At roughly 5pm EST, Lee, considered armed and dangerous, was shot by police in order to free the hostages. It was reported that the hostages were safe and Lee in custody.

Soon after, word was released that Lee was in fact dead from his injuries.

Sigh. Guess summer is officially over. Rough day back on the job.

[NY Daily News: Radical Environmentalist Gunman James Jay Lee Holds Hostages At Discovery Channel, May Have Bomb]
[Post Now: Discovery Suspect James Lee In Custody]

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‘Til September, lovelies.

The cool kids at Giant Robot and Kumquat will probably tell you that they love Thy Mai. She’s been lopping off their locks for years (Ever checked out Martin Wong? Dude has an awesome head of hair!), and recently gave me a hot (if I do say so myself) new coif before donating my old locks to eco non-profit Matter of Trust.

Mai’s a saucy, sassy, ebullient hair afficianado who may be one of the world’s best natural conversationalists. Two things I already understand about her–she loves hair, and she loves to share. It’s no wonder, then, that she’s been offering free hairstyling lessons on the web via her hair channel, to show–by working on herself–how hair dunces like me can use bobby pins and flat irons to look hotter than the Hills chicks we make fun of on this blog. Like Michelle Phan with makeup, Mai operates in realistic body positions and points out easy fixes, which makes styles more doable than daunting–a welcome alternative to walking out of the salon looking like a supamodel, only to look like a supamoron for the following six weeks until the next visit.

[YouTube: Thy Mai's Hair Channel]
[Thy Mai - Official Site]

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‘Til September, lovelies.

I’ll admit that I am personally a bit of baby whore, someone who walks up to any strange little ‘un with wide open arms to offer a bounce or a burp, loves getting puked on, files “squishing baby thighs” under “favorite pastimes,” and is truly validated not by career achievement but by the squealy giggle of a toddler who can’t distinguish me from a play-and-learn musical puppy. I love babies. I probably love your baby. Give me your baby. I want to squish its thighs.

But still, I think it takes a lot for a parenting blog to be good reading for those without child. I don’t spend a ton of time on mommy and daddy sites (although I did follow a mama trail to this post about family bikes once, and almost dropped a few grand on a family tricycle just for myself), so I’m surprised that I keep finding myself browsing the stories of Busy Dad Blog and giggling at the life of Huggies-sponsored daddy Jim. Jim (Busy Dad) is one of the three people I know of in Los Angeles that rides Metro besides myself, seems like a real dude’s dude, and is constantly being outwitted by his older cutie of two, Fury (real name Marcus). I am most eternally grateful for baby Lessi (real name Alessia; Busy Dad has acknowledged that she got shortchanged on family nicknames), who has inspired a whole new cache of oogy-woogy photos to fill the empty space in my stomach that arrives every time I realize Fury is smarter than me. And she’s got those baby thighs. Just the cutest, most squishable baby thighs.

[Busy Dad Blog]

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‘Til September, lovelies.





Summer shmummer. Guys, it’s too fucking hot in Los Angeles right now to do anything. Too hot to walk, too hot to think, too hot to blog, too hot to be nice. It is literally too hot for me to like anybody else’s site enough to send you there, so I’m breaking the DISGRASIAN vacasian rules.

Instead, I am sharing a video of a Japanese robot serving ice cream. It’s the only thing that can make me smile at this particular moment because I am COOKING INSIDE MY OWN SKIN. GOD HELP LOS ANGELES.





[YouTube: Yaskawa-kun Robot Sells Ice Cream In Japan]

Thanks, G Scott and Doug!