I couldn't abandon ship without saying goodbye to Julia Allison. Her birthday party was last night! And I know, I know: you're so over Julia Allison, Why do you keep posting about her? I'm tired of hearing about her! Etc.
Well, you bitches wouldn't have clicked on the post if you didn't want to read something about her, would you?
Here's what I think of Julia Allison: she's like fuckin' Bloody Mary, or Tao Lin. Every time her name pops up on the site, so does she. Emails! Comments! And so on. But people who completely freak out about Julia Allison and are her creepy internet stalkerazzi? I say, everything in moderation. And I don't view her so much as a thing or this thing or a sociological experiment or whatever. Julia Allison is a business, and the business of Julia Allison is successful, and that business of being Julia Allison is predicated upon being a walking, talking publicity agency, fighting on all fronts, where the only client is Julia Allison. And people who want to be this well-known this badly probably will be—for better or, well, otherwise—but they also inherently accept everything that comes with it. Stalkerazzi and all!
That said, I don't really understand the out-and-out hatred of Julia Allison either. As far as breathing capitalist enterprises go, her business only comes at the cost of her own relationships and your airspace—which you can manipulate to your liking at any moment—and, well, Isn't there someone better to rage against? Like Kim Jong-Il? At least with him, raging doesn't necessarily help his cause. And let's say Julia Allison does something nefarious, like lies about her media freebie disclosures, or cheats on her taxes, or stiffs a cab driver. You actually give a shit? You actually have time to give a shit? Especially if you aren't paid to do so?
Hopefully not. I just found her fascinating. A lot of Gawker readers did too, because they kept clicking until she landed the cover of Wired and was hanging out at Davos and shit. Isn't that a goddamn gas? This person was so hated, she ended up at Davos. Ha.
I guess I just wouldn't be able to trust Julia Allison, because the everyday details of her personal life and relationships are—pretty much more than anyone I can think of off-hand—inextricably linked to her financial success. That must be tough. Ha.
Here's a gallery of pictures from her birthday party.
She's not in any of them.
Obviously if you were there or know who her boyfriend is, I'd love to talk to you.
This all makes me feel uncomfortable.
I wouldn't advocate huffing anything, but these might be more interesting on a glue high. You know?
That's her boyfriend on the left. If you know who it is, that'd be a fun story to go out with. She's keeping him anonymous. Here they are at a party. Party!
Here's Julia Allison acolyte Jordan Reid. I actually bet Jordan's a decent type! Did you know she was almost on It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia? True story. Also, her husband, standing next to her, isn't really anonymous. I think she just put the smiley face there to impersonate Julia? This entire thing is like reading hieroglyphics and I just don't get it. Really, truly. I don't understand much of this. If anything. Anyway, her boyfriend is this guy Kendrick Strauch who used to be in Harlem Shakes, who was a band everyone in New York had heard of, seen, or listened to, but also a band nobody could name a song by. Anyway, they broke up. Julia Allison's Birthday Party, or Indie Rock Obscurity? Ehhhh....*Makes Scales With Hands*
We're gonna get a little place.
Okay, yeah, we're gonna get a little place and w're gonna...
We gonna...gonna have a cow, and some pigs, and we're gonna have, maybe-maybe, a chicken.
Post-op castration patients are often rehabbed with pictures of their spouses' friends photo albums to ease them into their new roles in the world.
. Dorrian's, A Portrait. Mixed Media., 2010. Art courtesy the artist.
If one of these women were to appear above my bed demanding alimony payments, I'd shit myself. And then consult the closest Dickens novel for advice.
When the Mighty Morphin Sephora Rangers combine powers, it's like Voltron, except nothing cool happens. They just drunkenly tumble to the ground and scrape their knees.
Bronimal Collective. The Brosten Celtics. BroYPD: Bro York's Finest. The Bro Team! Florence + The Brochine. Grizzly Bro. The Bro Steady. LCD Brosystem. The Bro-End Theory. Of Bros and Men. Brosserie. Brontausaurs. Keep it on the down-bro. Etc.