Taken as a series, I was loving how this looked like a satanic disco black mass designed by Gianni Versace and directed by Fellini, but then we hit a wall of sparkly, sparkly sequins and the sound of my "MEH" shook the pillars of the earth.
I just love the name "Zestra" – it sounds like some kind of commercial MSG product (or He-Man villainess) from the 80's.
"What's your secret, Mom? A dash of Zestra™ to add savoury sizzle to Salisbury steak!"
"What's your secret, Mom? A dash of Zestra™ to add savoury sizzle to Salisbury steak!"
SWOON.
Check out the Pat Benatar routine at the top and the Helen Reddy spectacular at the end...
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1. It is a natural wonder, rivaled only by Snatchu Picchu or the Vulver Dam. HEY-YOOO! FYI, I lost a frisbee over that wall in high school and I haven't seen it since. I've been too engrossed by the mysteries of Bonehenge - KA-ZING! (OK, you can drop the banhammer now. I deserve it.)
2. I think one ought to stick with national flags. Les tricolours for Bastille Day. The Mexican flag for Cinco de Mayo. Though, I might weave leaves and seashells into it like 1970's textile art for Earth Day...
3. I so want this to be Burt Reynolds from the 80s. I don't know why, but the image of someone's mom opening the door at 2:30 AM to a Tequila-drunk Burt with an armful of Solid Gold dancers makes me cackle...
Why do I feel like I'm 12 and in a friends basement, trying to roll Earl Grey tea in somebody's brother's stolen Zig-Zags?
Hey guys - let's put on a Buddha Bar compilation CD, slip into our charcoal-gray, viscose-blend, utilitarian shell-vests, do some "smart drugs" off our espresso-wood coffee tables and pretend that it's 1998 and a magazine about Lufthansa cutlery and Albanian hotel lobbies is still "aspirational" to anyone. The only lifestyle that Wallpaper was relevant to was that of Tyler Brulé, who managed to live his dream of living in airport lounges by starting a magazine about living in airport lounges.
Contest over. Sorry. "Christmas Shoes" by a light year. "Christmas Shoes" is worse than crabs. Also, Mele Kalikimaka is and always will be the thing to say on a bright Hawaiian Christmas day. For SHAME!
I grew up with subways and smelly taxis, so any and all cowboy talk/Western lore is awesomely appreciated!
That's one to grow on! I didn't even know the etymology. Cool.
"Chapassy"?
"Chapsanspantalons"?
"The Nashville Pussy"?
"ChapFlap?"
"Chapsanspantalons"?
"The Nashville Pussy"?
"ChapFlap?"
"Leather Night"
Fair point. I suppose someone's had a poetic journey on a motorcycle with a man named Nigel or Clive. Hypothetically...
OK, reflexive teen-flashback cringing aside, I only have one thing to say...
For the last time: all chaps are assless! That's the definition of chaps! If they had an ass, they'd be leather pants! It's like saying "sleeveless bra"! So many exclamation points! They denote urgency!!!
For the last time: all chaps are assless! That's the definition of chaps! If they had an ass, they'd be leather pants! It's like saying "sleeveless bra"! So many exclamation points! They denote urgency!!!
As broronic as this is, I still love their weird and awesome accents. Bru! Frindshup > Gills, Bru! Giss wat! I'm gay as, bru!
I'm kind of shocked. Mostly that people are still reading Brett Easton Ellis. Mostly because I thought we didn't need to anymore. I thought his affectless, vapid, attachment-disorder-chic had basically become the social network ethic we now know and are ambivalent about. That a queer man can shit on vulnerable kids' attempts to change a culture of homophobia just to maintain a terminally jaded trademark pose that nobody cares about anymore, sadly, does not surprise me at all.
Am I the only one thinking this is a lost clip from the absolute best Cosby Show episode ever? Also, now I want pie. Damn you, Rev!
Wait a second, have you been to my family's house for Rosh Hashanah?
And they were gasping into their Hermes pocket squares over Jay-Z. This HGH turd-dumpling is the reason why we have UFC themed jewelry, stretch-Suburbans, and "Boondock Saints 2." Though, to be fair, last week I dipped my nuts in a can of Sevruga caviar to celebrate the NHL season opener. Fuck you, lazy-ass commie sturgeon! Get jobz y'all!!!;)
Aww. As soon as he's not the only gay in the village and embraces the giant, multifaceted rainbow of faggotry, I'm sure he'll realize he can turn the fierceness down sometimes. Or not. Either way it's all good. It's about the whole diversity enchilada, from super-flame to comically butch to odiferous shlub (like me). You may just have to deal with a lifetime of "GIRRRRL PLEEEEZE!!! OKRRRR!!!" Such is the way of the world.
