Me Io Ako Ich Ja Yo Mim

My photo
Complusive. rover. Currently hanging in Cape Town, South Africa, but born and bred in Galway, Ireland. * Update - now to be found in London Town.
Showing posts with label hilArious. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hilArious. Show all posts

Turning Japanese, I really think so.

All day today, I've been wearing an oversized mans' shirt with only a string top underneath. I haven't felt cold once. This wouldn't be strange if it was mid-June, but it's freaking October, almost the middle of October! You can't enjoy the witching season in a tank top, for chrissakes. I was skyping with a friend today in New York and she said the exact same thing. Global warming has a lot to answer for, my friends.

I'm all for saving the environment and try to be as green as I can be, without heading down the clothes made of hemp and "knitting my own organic porridge" route. (Paraphrased from a very clever little article I read in the Sunday Times a couple of weeks back!) However, some of this ecofriendly stuff can be a bit well, too green for me. It'll be a cold day in hell (not likely at the way Mother Nature is hot flushing all over the place) before you catch Murzipan availing of reusable tampons, for example. Check it out just for the crazy-ass website alone - apparently the Polar Bear model is "quite romantic" but the penguin is kind of a loner. Okay then.

However, you may very well catch me using one of these little guys someday in the near future, the penguin or the walrus being the most likely candidates right now! Fridgezoo magnets start nattering away when you open the fridge door, but linger too long and they'll be on your case to shut it again. Granted, you won't know exactly what they're saying because it's all in Japanese, but this can only add to their value I feel. Hide one right in the back and scare the crap out of your boyfriend when his after-pub midnight munching directs him towards those leftovers you want for lunch tomorrow. Plus, I've always thought that having something in the fridge chattering at me might prevent me reaching for the last slice of cheesecake/bottle of vino blanco. These little guys are gonna have their work cut out for them, I feel.

Also, what ever happened to The Revs? Does anyone know?

Don't let the system get you down...



There is a long, long list of things I want to do before I drop off the face of this planet. One of them is chatting to Madonna, the Queen of Pop herself (we share a birthday, don'tcha know). Another is marrying Michael Cera. A third is growing my hair past my shoulders (and you may think, dear reader, that this is the most easily achievable of my life goals, however Mother Nature begs to differ, it would seem). Today, another target was added to that list. I NEED to meet this kid.

I know this picture has been all over tha' tinternet for donkey's years now, but for some reason it really struck a chord with me today. Which could have a lot to do with the fact that I am really dehydrated and haven't been sleeping so well, but I digress. Who is this child? Where is he now? Does he still play clarinet/flute/oboe/whatever the hell that is*? Does he have a girlfriend? What's his favourite film? So many questions.

The people over at thesearethings obviously shared my fascination with the ginger-topped wonder, as they turned him into a funny letterpress print, stickers and a tee. He clearly made quite the impact then. Get your hands on him (not literally, obviously. Jeez.) here! They have a bunch of other deadly stuff also, I'm particularly keen on the 2011 travel adventure calendar - time to start the Christmas wish list methinks!


*Please excuse my complete ignorance when it comes to musical instruments, thank you very much.

Shiver me timbers...

This made me laugh this morning...

(Found via Jezebel)

The more I see, the less I know...


This is how I'll be making all my relationship decisions (If I ever have any to make again. *le sigh) from now on. Seven kinds of wonderful in a pretty chart.

Christ.


Yesterday, while innocently browsing the web, looking for anything (and I mean ANYTHING) to distract me from paying attention to the fact that my wardrobe is currently masquerading as a dump site, I came across these images from Vivienne Westwood’s latest menswear collection. It could only be described as a sartorial car crash. And I think that may be a little too kind, to be honest.

The words Factory, Paint, Explosion, and Fabric spring to mind to say the least.

The very least.

Images from the train wreck below, make up your own mind...

I really didn’t see this one coming. I mean, I know La Westwood is a bit “different” as the Mothership would say, but COME ON. Does anyone really want their man to look like Little Boy Blue (had he fallen under a bucket of bleach, that is)/ a ventriloquist's dummy come to life, I wonder?

This one has a touch of the Bibi Baskin, circa 1993 about it, no?...Much love for the Beebster but sleeping with her tribute act is a little too far for me, I'm afraid.

Would you be ok with your man candy rocking up in this little number? Because if you are honey, I suggest you get out of the relationship now. Before you come home and find him cavorting about in those nasty red knicks he got you “for the laugh” last Christmas. Trust me on this; it’ll save time and the cost of 10 gallons of red wine plus your body weight in chocolate later on down the line.

Once I had recovered from the initial visual assault, I realised that maybe Vivienne is on to something here though. I stand firm in my belief that encountering one of these creations on any man-shaped object may be the most effective form of contraception known to humankind. I see your pills, coils and implants and raise you toupees, bad spray tans and drop-crotch chequered pants, Scientists of the World!

(all images from WWD)

Respectable, Modern, American, Upscale...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tqOMf8Nar2c

Easily the best video on YouTube. Easily.