Oh, Dillard's...
Saturday, April 17, 2010
...you make it so hard for me to move on. Why did you put this woman's feet on backwards? Step away from the Photoshop...
Labels: advertising, dillard's, fashion, photography, photoshop
a new you!
Sunday, September 13, 2009
It's kinda like the old you, minus accessories. Not so exciting, really.
It's been a long time since I mocked Dillard's. But this one touched my heart.
Labels: advertising, dillard's, fashion
mother's day 2009
Thursday, May 7, 2009
This is such a festive time of year! Sunday is Mother’s Day, which means it’s time for the parade of identical, badly dressed Dillard’s MILFS.
This year, get your three moms expensive and wildly unflattering “patio dresses.” Nothing says “I love you” like a paisley tent.
(Take a little walk down memory lane, through Dillard's posts past.)
Labels: advertising, dillard's, mother's day
depression chic
Thursday, February 12, 2009
smoldering dillard's man
Sunday, February 8, 2009
dillard's news
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
I see in today's news that investors want to oust Dillard's management. I take no responsibility for this.
However, here is a Dillard's disaster that has been sitting on my desk waiting for attention. This poor girl appears to have collapsed under the weight of her over-accessorization. I think the watch attached to her purse might have been the last straw.
I have lots more to say about lots of things but I'm trying to catch up after a week away from my desk. Please stay tuned. The goddam shoe wheel will make another appearance and things will get psychological again. But for the moment, I am dealing with Cream of Wheat brain. It happens sometimes.
P.S. My new ambition in life is to "go rogue."
However, here is a Dillard's disaster that has been sitting on my desk waiting for attention. This poor girl appears to have collapsed under the weight of her over-accessorization. I think the watch attached to her purse might have been the last straw.
I have lots more to say about lots of things but I'm trying to catch up after a week away from my desk. Please stay tuned. The goddam shoe wheel will make another appearance and things will get psychological again. But for the moment, I am dealing with Cream of Wheat brain. It happens sometimes.
P.S. My new ambition in life is to "go rogue."
Labels: advertising, dillard's, fashion
my husband helps out
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Tom husband is very supportive of my work. I'm traveling and busy this week, but he wanted to help insure that the high quality of my blog is maintained, so when he opened his morning paper and saw this, he rushed it to me immediately.
Where this goes wrong is with the strange glowing thighs and the way her hands are strategically placed to mask/draw attention to her childbearing hips. Which actually appear to be smaller than they appear.
Where this goes wrong is with the strange glowing thighs and the way her hands are strategically placed to mask/draw attention to her childbearing hips. Which actually appear to be smaller than they appear.
Labels: advertising, dillard's
on dread
Friday, October 17, 2008
Among my many neuroses about which I "enjoy" ruminating is dread.
For example: I gave a speech about my Yankee Chick book this week to a local newcomers group. I have given dozens of speeches on the topic in the seven years since the book was released and I’m actually pretty good at it.
When I first started promoting the book, I simply decided not to be nervous about speaking in public. Most people under most circumstances, when they come to a program like the ones I give, are there with every intention of having fun. These audiences are mine to lose and seeming awkward and anxious is a good way to lose them. So when I step up to a lectern, I banish all anxiety and have fun through sheer force of will.
Of course, I have had some clunker experiences. There was a reading I did for book club that met in a noisy bar. I had to bellow over the racket and I still don’t think everyone heard me. Nobody had fun that night.
Then there was the time I was invited to speak at a community college. The room was full, which was great, but it was an unnervingly deadpan audience. No matter how hilarious I tried to be, I got blank stares in return. When I finally, finally, finally wrapped it up—the longest 45 minutes in history—I found out that my audience was mostly ESL students who had been required to attend.
Some sort of cruel joke?
So anyway, I suppose I have some reason to be nervous about an approaching speech. But nervous doesn’t do justice to the intense feeling of dread I experience as a speech day approaches.
I usually am booked for these things months in advance. When it’s four months away, Sure! Happy to do it! The closer it gets, the more onerous it seems. By the night before a speech, I feel like I’m preparing to face a firing squad.
Once I’m in front of the audience everything is fine (provided my audience speaks English), but what a lot of energy I waste on dread up until that point.
Today, my dread is about a trip to Arizona next week. It’s going to be a great trip, but it requires waking up early a couple of days. One day, I have to be up, dressed, packed and checked out of the hotel by no later than 6:45 a.m. And my flight home at the end of the week is at the appalling hour of 5 a.m. (Using frequent flier miles is getting harder and harder these days.) This means I’ll have to be out of the hotel at about 4 a.m.
I know, I know. Not a big deal. In fact, it’s a pretty small deal. A miniscule deal. Not really a deal at all. So I wake up early--so what? I rarely oversleep, so I’m not afraid of that. I’m just dreading… what? Feeling tired? Having bad hair? Missing an hour of sleep? I can’t figure it out and yet this dread is palpable and it will increase as those days get closer.
Strange.
***
OK, I know you can’t face your weekend without your Dillard’s fix. And here she is. Twice.
Tom sez: “Ooh, which one is worse?” Good question, although the one in the foreground appears painfully crammed into her confusing outfit so my vote goes there.
Oh, and BTW, I got a call from the National Enquirer this week. They are hot on the trail of the Dr. Phil/Robin story. Evidently, they have evidence that the couple is living separately and they are seeking sources to confirm. We can only hope this big news will knock Joe the Plumber out of the headlines because I, for one, am sick to death of him.
For example: I gave a speech about my Yankee Chick book this week to a local newcomers group. I have given dozens of speeches on the topic in the seven years since the book was released and I’m actually pretty good at it.
When I first started promoting the book, I simply decided not to be nervous about speaking in public. Most people under most circumstances, when they come to a program like the ones I give, are there with every intention of having fun. These audiences are mine to lose and seeming awkward and anxious is a good way to lose them. So when I step up to a lectern, I banish all anxiety and have fun through sheer force of will.
Of course, I have had some clunker experiences. There was a reading I did for book club that met in a noisy bar. I had to bellow over the racket and I still don’t think everyone heard me. Nobody had fun that night.
Then there was the time I was invited to speak at a community college. The room was full, which was great, but it was an unnervingly deadpan audience. No matter how hilarious I tried to be, I got blank stares in return. When I finally, finally, finally wrapped it up—the longest 45 minutes in history—I found out that my audience was mostly ESL students who had been required to attend.
Some sort of cruel joke?
So anyway, I suppose I have some reason to be nervous about an approaching speech. But nervous doesn’t do justice to the intense feeling of dread I experience as a speech day approaches.
I usually am booked for these things months in advance. When it’s four months away, Sure! Happy to do it! The closer it gets, the more onerous it seems. By the night before a speech, I feel like I’m preparing to face a firing squad.
Once I’m in front of the audience everything is fine (provided my audience speaks English), but what a lot of energy I waste on dread up until that point.
Today, my dread is about a trip to Arizona next week. It’s going to be a great trip, but it requires waking up early a couple of days. One day, I have to be up, dressed, packed and checked out of the hotel by no later than 6:45 a.m. And my flight home at the end of the week is at the appalling hour of 5 a.m. (Using frequent flier miles is getting harder and harder these days.) This means I’ll have to be out of the hotel at about 4 a.m.
I know, I know. Not a big deal. In fact, it’s a pretty small deal. A miniscule deal. Not really a deal at all. So I wake up early--so what? I rarely oversleep, so I’m not afraid of that. I’m just dreading… what? Feeling tired? Having bad hair? Missing an hour of sleep? I can’t figure it out and yet this dread is palpable and it will increase as those days get closer.
Strange.
***
OK, I know you can’t face your weekend without your Dillard’s fix. And here she is. Twice.
Tom sez: “Ooh, which one is worse?” Good question, although the one in the foreground appears painfully crammed into her confusing outfit so my vote goes there.
Oh, and BTW, I got a call from the National Enquirer this week. They are hot on the trail of the Dr. Phil/Robin story. Evidently, they have evidence that the couple is living separately and they are seeking sources to confirm. We can only hope this big news will knock Joe the Plumber out of the headlines because I, for one, am sick to death of him.
Labels: dillard's, dr. phil, memoir
bless her heart
Saturday, October 11, 2008
dillard's du jour
Sunday, September 28, 2008
Dillard's could have the same impact if it simply ran an ad that said, "Dillard's. We're a department store and we sell stuff" as it does with this sad sack selection.
If you are morally opposed to advertising (and aren't we all, just a little?) and its calculated ability to make you crave things you don't need, then you must applaud Dillard's. I feel no pangs of deprivation when I look at this ad. Mostly, I think, "Hey, I have nicer stuff than that."
Perhaps Dillard's is positioning itself as shopping for the non-aspirational. Perhaps in solidarity with that anti-consumerist message, I should now shop only Dillard's. But I already have a hoodie and jeans.
I actually have a friend who shops the Dillard's sales racks frequently and always comes up with cute stuff. But I'm just fascinated, and bumfuzzled, by their marketing plan.
Labels: advertising, dillard's
flotsam friday
Friday, September 19, 2008
Pardon my lousy mood. I’ll try to keep it to myself and just toss a little cheery flotsam your way.
**
Cute Overload has a particularly great post today--check out the Prairie Dog smash-ups, here. Sound necessary. Some people have magical talents.
**
If I dug a hole in my backyard straight through the other side of the Earth, I would emerge in the middle of the Indian Ocean. Which doesn’t sound like a lot of fun. How do I know this? Worldhum turned me on to the cool and essentially useless Google Tunneling Tool. Just because. Beats working.
**
New model, same depressing style…
Evidently, there’s a small anti-Dillard’s movement brewing. Stockholders aren’t happy. Here’s a blogful of complaints. Evidently women don’t want to dress like Opal Pickles.
**
Speaking of fashion, if you’re a fan of The Sartorialist then check out the senior version, Advanced Style. The text can be patronizing at times but the intentions are good and the styles range from inspiring to merely impressively audacious.
The video below comes to us via Advanced Style and this lady rocks.
**
Another well-informed voter unleashes her ire on Charles Gibson’s glasses.
**
You can tell I reported this story about visiting the fabulous Best Friends Animal Sanctuary a long time ago, because l'il ZsaZsa (RIP) makes an appearance in the lede. But I'm glad the story has finally made it into print.
And here's a story about my most recent glamorous trip, to the Choctaw Casino in Durant, OK. Actually, we had a pretty good time. Oklahoma good.
**
OK, let’s all cheer up, because the renewed mind is the key. This is a must-watch, coming to me via my kooky friends at the United Methodist Reporter (via Best TV Week Ever). Warning: Earworm ahead.
**
Cute Overload has a particularly great post today--check out the Prairie Dog smash-ups, here. Sound necessary. Some people have magical talents.
**
If I dug a hole in my backyard straight through the other side of the Earth, I would emerge in the middle of the Indian Ocean. Which doesn’t sound like a lot of fun. How do I know this? Worldhum turned me on to the cool and essentially useless Google Tunneling Tool. Just because. Beats working.
**
New model, same depressing style…
Evidently, there’s a small anti-Dillard’s movement brewing. Stockholders aren’t happy. Here’s a blogful of complaints. Evidently women don’t want to dress like Opal Pickles.
**
Speaking of fashion, if you’re a fan of The Sartorialist then check out the senior version, Advanced Style. The text can be patronizing at times but the intentions are good and the styles range from inspiring to merely impressively audacious.
The video below comes to us via Advanced Style and this lady rocks.
**
Another well-informed voter unleashes her ire on Charles Gibson’s glasses.
**
You can tell I reported this story about visiting the fabulous Best Friends Animal Sanctuary a long time ago, because l'il ZsaZsa (RIP) makes an appearance in the lede. But I'm glad the story has finally made it into print.
And here's a story about my most recent glamorous trip, to the Choctaw Casino in Durant, OK. Actually, we had a pretty good time. Oklahoma good.
**
OK, let’s all cheer up, because the renewed mind is the key. This is a must-watch, coming to me via my kooky friends at the United Methodist Reporter (via Best TV Week Ever). Warning: Earworm ahead.
Labels: advertising, dillard's, fashion, humor, politics, travel
is she being punished?
Sunday, August 17, 2008
You know, Dillard's does have some OK clothes in their ads sometimes. But never, never on this poor woman. This model must be toting some pretty terrible karma because she is only photographed in the most unfortunate outfits. What did you do to Dillards, poor MILF-lady?
Labels: advertising, dillard's, fashion
i annoint myself a tastemaker
Friday, July 11, 2008
I think it was in Jezebel, which has best and worst dressed lists, that a writer dismissed capris as if everyone knows that capris are stupid and there is no argument about it.
I have some capris and naturally felt dissed. And then, instead of beating them up about it (in my mind), I decided it would be more fun to join ‘em and declare myself an arbiter of all that is acceptable and all that is not.
I’ll take a page from Tom’s book. He long ago declared shorts on stage (on male musicians, that is) are unacceptable, period. He has insisted on this for so long that I must agree. You cannot rock and roll with your hairy legs showing. Don’t do it. If you can’t deal with sweating in jeans, you're too sissy to rock.
In that spirit, I have decided that big, plastic earrings are unacceptable. No, don’t argue, there is nothing to discuss. So it is said and so it shall be.
Big white plastic earrings with a bathing suit? Beneath discussion.
I’ll be back with more proclamations as they occur to me.
I have some capris and naturally felt dissed. And then, instead of beating them up about it (in my mind), I decided it would be more fun to join ‘em and declare myself an arbiter of all that is acceptable and all that is not.
I’ll take a page from Tom’s book. He long ago declared shorts on stage (on male musicians, that is) are unacceptable, period. He has insisted on this for so long that I must agree. You cannot rock and roll with your hairy legs showing. Don’t do it. If you can’t deal with sweating in jeans, you're too sissy to rock.
In that spirit, I have decided that big, plastic earrings are unacceptable. No, don’t argue, there is nothing to discuss. So it is said and so it shall be.
Big white plastic earrings with a bathing suit? Beneath discussion.
I’ll be back with more proclamations as they occur to me.
dillard's is silly but neimans is creepy
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
Here’s our happy multiple mom again, from today’s paper. She’s still silly but the bathing suits in this ad aren’t hideous and I’ve grown accustomed to her face and her easy-care hair.
Turn the page and…. (cue music from Psycho shower scene)
My god! This poor child! Feed her! Get her out of those Devil Shoes! For god’s sake, at least let her grow up a few years before you put her through this. Look at this sweet little girl face.
Yeah, yeah. Fashionistas are rolling their eyes at me—so gauche to complain about skinny underage models. But this photo gives me the willies.
Here, a young Dallas model discusses her bout with eating disorders. I wanted to cry and throw up reading that one casting director for Paris fashion week told her, "You're turning into a woman, and your body is changing. You need to learn to control that."
I know women are supposed to be inspired to shop by imagining they look younger, slimmer and sexier than they are, but this can go too far. Even when fashion photos aren’t quite as disturbing as this one, I’m not dumb enough to imagine I’ll ever look like a 14-year-old dressed as a grown up. I wouldn’t want to, anyway.
I had a similar thought while working out the other day to a Crunch DVD. All those pretty, perky and extremely buff women were supposed to inspire me but that was not the effect they had. I wished for someone I could relate to, someone who was a little bit older, a little bit curvier, a little bit imperfect but fit. I wasn’t discouraged by the sight of all those sexy sixpacks, but with them on the TV screen, my reflection in the mirror was kind of depressing. One reason Richard Simmons workouts are so much fun is because he has people of all sizes Sweatin' to the Oldies
. To me, that’s much more inspiring than a chorus line of women who clearly dedicate their lives to their buns and abs. They only makes me feel that what I can do is not enough and never will be.
Turn the page and…. (cue music from Psycho shower scene)
My god! This poor child! Feed her! Get her out of those Devil Shoes! For god’s sake, at least let her grow up a few years before you put her through this. Look at this sweet little girl face.
Yeah, yeah. Fashionistas are rolling their eyes at me—so gauche to complain about skinny underage models. But this photo gives me the willies.
Here, a young Dallas model discusses her bout with eating disorders. I wanted to cry and throw up reading that one casting director for Paris fashion week told her, "You're turning into a woman, and your body is changing. You need to learn to control that."
I know women are supposed to be inspired to shop by imagining they look younger, slimmer and sexier than they are, but this can go too far. Even when fashion photos aren’t quite as disturbing as this one, I’m not dumb enough to imagine I’ll ever look like a 14-year-old dressed as a grown up. I wouldn’t want to, anyway.
I had a similar thought while working out the other day to a Crunch DVD. All those pretty, perky and extremely buff women were supposed to inspire me but that was not the effect they had. I wished for someone I could relate to, someone who was a little bit older, a little bit curvier, a little bit imperfect but fit. I wasn’t discouraged by the sight of all those sexy sixpacks, but with them on the TV screen, my reflection in the mirror was kind of depressing. One reason Richard Simmons workouts are so much fun is because he has people of all sizes Sweatin' to the Oldies
. To me, that’s much more inspiring than a chorus line of women who clearly dedicate their lives to their buns and abs. They only makes me feel that what I can do is not enough and never will be.Labels: advertising, dillard's, fashion, feminism, personal growth
seeking middle ground
Thursday, June 5, 2008
Dillard's--The message: Don't have sex, don't want it. Call me Mrs. Pickles.
Macy's perfume ad--The message: I am a pain in the ass (times three) at the very least, and possibly insane. Don't have sex, don't want it. Prefer hanging around gay men.
Macy's perfume ad--The message: I am a pain in the ass (times three) at the very least, and possibly insane. Don't have sex, don't want it. Prefer hanging around gay men.
Labels: advertising, dillard's, macy's, women
mother's day
Saturday, May 10, 2008
Dear MILF,
It annoys me that you're hotter than I am so here are some hideous, dumpy outfits so my boyfriend stops looking at you like you're a sweet piece of mom-candy.
Happy Mother's Day!
Hugs!
Your daughter
It annoys me that you're hotter than I am so here are some hideous, dumpy outfits so my boyfriend stops looking at you like you're a sweet piece of mom-candy.
Happy Mother's Day!
Hugs!
Your daughter
Labels: advertising, dillard's, holidays, milf, mother's day, shopping
ff
Friday, May 9, 2008
You learn something new every day (if you’re lucky). I had no idea there was a Texas-shaped swimming pool in Plano. How delicious is that? If I lived closer, I’d join. Keep the pool alive, Planites. Join today.
On my one trip to Branson, MO many years ago, I stayed at the Music Country Motor Inn because it had a guitar-shaped swimming pool. Too bad the postcard doesn’t do the pool justice.
I don’t remember the room. I do remember seeing Mel Tillis and Shoji Tabuchi. Just what is the Shoji Tabuchi Show that everyone loving American music is raving about? his website asks. A Japanese fiddler. Yes indeedy.
***
According to this article, when the economy struggles, lipstick sales soar. Interesting. I wonder if then, these women promptly lose said lipsticks, as I do. Yes, the problem continues. Where do they go?
What do you give up when money gets tight? For one thing, Jack isn’t getting shmancy organic biscuits these days. When we have money, I order them online from a small company because with these biscuits, his breath stays sweet. These days, he’s eating semi-fancy Petco biscuits and his breath can knock you over from across the room. We also stop shopping at Whole Foods. Tom Thumb is good enough. We’re cutting back on our meat consumption a bit, too. Which is good for us in many various ways.
I have definitely started watching my driving. The other day I met friends for lunch in Plano, which is a haul for me. Driving home, I realized that gas added about another $12 to the cheap lunch. I watched that gauge as obsessively as I watch taxi meters in New York. (Although that’s less about the price of the ride than the performance pressure of calculating the tip. I calculate and recalculate the tip every time the meter flips.)
What else? I go the library more. I don’t buy many new books but when money is tight, I buy even fewer. I’m somewhat less likely to order wine when I eat out. (Somewhat. Depends on the day of the week.)
The one thing I still can’t bring myself to give up, though, is having someone clean my house every two weeks. It’s a luxury I can no longer live without. Life is short, my house gets really dirty.
***
Ms. Krit sent that lipstick article, and she sent me this article, about how to buy a dictionary.
Her favorite part and mine:
Look for dirty words.
All parts of English are important, even those trouble-making words that are coarse, derogatory, or sexual. A good lexicographer will include the most common words of all kinds, including ones that can be troublesome.
If a dictionary’s editors have chosen to leave out words they consider offensive, we must also wonder what other words they have left out. What are their criteria for judging words to be offensive? Are they leaving out words that concern any religion but their own? Are they leaving out words that deal with political viewpoints they don’t support? Are they leaving out words simply because they think they’re ugly? Are they including words simply because they like them? Are they deleting insulting words for their own ethnic group and leaving in insulting words for other groups?
See? Profanity does have a noble purpose? Fuckin’ A!
***
My favorite New Yorker cartoon of the week, right here.
***
Some Mother’s Day snark for the unsentimental.
Is this the scariest ad EVER? It’s the attack of the mom clones. Not to mention the scary clothes. The outfit on Mom #1 is clearly designed for the mom you hate. Stacey and Clinton, please help.
Here, from my favorite ecard site, is a collection of Mother’s Day cards you would never dare send, much as you might want to.
I’ve seen articles that say people are going to spend more on their mothers this year, and articles that say they are going to spend less. Predictably, mothers say, “Oh, don’t worry about me. I’ll sit in the dark.”
This just in: Mother's Day press release with infuriating unnecessary apostrophes: Wanted to pass along this last minute gift idea for those active mom's or for those mom's that always have sore, tired feet. Please let me know if you would like more information or need any images or product samples.
To add to the idiocy, the message text gives no clue as to what the product is. I would have to open an attachment for any more information. Not gonna do it, Matt. If for no other reason than because you're an idiot. What would your mother think?
Don’t know what to get mom? Perhaps this:
***
And finally, searches of the week.
My portrait of a xoloescuintle was very popular on Thursday. Maybe someone was passing it around? It was accessed a number of times. Also, from the same page, the photo of the pyramids and my arty farty flower shot.
I was disturbed by the search
i hate ps 166
How could anyone hate PS 166, my beloved alma mater? Now, if they knew Ethel O. Ebin, the principal when I was there, I could understand hating her, nasty old bat. I wish I had a photo of her. She had a grubby beehive hairdo that looked like it housed rodents.
Other searches this week:
Thank God I books for sale Castagnini
inside the brain of a narcissist
Narcissist Bully
negative reviews of elizabeth gilbert's eat, pray, love
gmail emails not reaching their destination
derivation of lithium name
cashmere bouquet plant
customer support gmail
outlook autofill subject line
mayeaux pronunciation
odd looking dogs
give me obama email adress and guest 2008@yahoo.com
jack kent cooke Conundrum
gmail to yahoo not getting sent
sophia needlepoint
jean fain
46/64 baby boomers magazine dallas morning news
CAROLINE HELDMAN self objectification
2008 guess book of jane in the usa @yahoo.com @gmail.com
"black and blue" dallas
intriguing
fun shit in dallas texas
"Advanced Backup Plug-In"
Menade du: "Advanced Backup PlugIn"
picture of someone eating a twinkie
knyledge Sutton
2008 email contact of directors in bangkok @gmail.com
smacking upside the head emoticon
rooting cashmere bouquet
+27+2008+2009 @yahoo.com OR @yahoo.com OR mail.com "director"
ooed and ahed
pronounce loehmann's
"an open mind" book markova
55L alpine pack = too big??
beautiful aunties with saris
That is all. Happy Friday.
On my one trip to Branson, MO many years ago, I stayed at the Music Country Motor Inn because it had a guitar-shaped swimming pool. Too bad the postcard doesn’t do the pool justice.
I don’t remember the room. I do remember seeing Mel Tillis and Shoji Tabuchi. Just what is the Shoji Tabuchi Show that everyone loving American music is raving about? his website asks. A Japanese fiddler. Yes indeedy.
***
According to this article, when the economy struggles, lipstick sales soar. Interesting. I wonder if then, these women promptly lose said lipsticks, as I do. Yes, the problem continues. Where do they go?
What do you give up when money gets tight? For one thing, Jack isn’t getting shmancy organic biscuits these days. When we have money, I order them online from a small company because with these biscuits, his breath stays sweet. These days, he’s eating semi-fancy Petco biscuits and his breath can knock you over from across the room. We also stop shopping at Whole Foods. Tom Thumb is good enough. We’re cutting back on our meat consumption a bit, too. Which is good for us in many various ways.
I have definitely started watching my driving. The other day I met friends for lunch in Plano, which is a haul for me. Driving home, I realized that gas added about another $12 to the cheap lunch. I watched that gauge as obsessively as I watch taxi meters in New York. (Although that’s less about the price of the ride than the performance pressure of calculating the tip. I calculate and recalculate the tip every time the meter flips.)
What else? I go the library more. I don’t buy many new books but when money is tight, I buy even fewer. I’m somewhat less likely to order wine when I eat out. (Somewhat. Depends on the day of the week.)
The one thing I still can’t bring myself to give up, though, is having someone clean my house every two weeks. It’s a luxury I can no longer live without. Life is short, my house gets really dirty.
***
Ms. Krit sent that lipstick article, and she sent me this article, about how to buy a dictionary.
Her favorite part and mine:
Look for dirty words.
All parts of English are important, even those trouble-making words that are coarse, derogatory, or sexual. A good lexicographer will include the most common words of all kinds, including ones that can be troublesome.
If a dictionary’s editors have chosen to leave out words they consider offensive, we must also wonder what other words they have left out. What are their criteria for judging words to be offensive? Are they leaving out words that concern any religion but their own? Are they leaving out words that deal with political viewpoints they don’t support? Are they leaving out words simply because they think they’re ugly? Are they including words simply because they like them? Are they deleting insulting words for their own ethnic group and leaving in insulting words for other groups?
See? Profanity does have a noble purpose? Fuckin’ A!
***
My favorite New Yorker cartoon of the week, right here.
***
Some Mother’s Day snark for the unsentimental.
Is this the scariest ad EVER? It’s the attack of the mom clones. Not to mention the scary clothes. The outfit on Mom #1 is clearly designed for the mom you hate. Stacey and Clinton, please help. Here, from my favorite ecard site, is a collection of Mother’s Day cards you would never dare send, much as you might want to.
I’ve seen articles that say people are going to spend more on their mothers this year, and articles that say they are going to spend less. Predictably, mothers say, “Oh, don’t worry about me. I’ll sit in the dark.”
This just in: Mother's Day press release with infuriating unnecessary apostrophes: Wanted to pass along this last minute gift idea for those active mom's or for those mom's that always have sore, tired feet. Please let me know if you would like more information or need any images or product samples.
To add to the idiocy, the message text gives no clue as to what the product is. I would have to open an attachment for any more information. Not gonna do it, Matt. If for no other reason than because you're an idiot. What would your mother think?
Don’t know what to get mom? Perhaps this:
***
And finally, searches of the week.
My portrait of a xoloescuintle was very popular on Thursday. Maybe someone was passing it around? It was accessed a number of times. Also, from the same page, the photo of the pyramids and my arty farty flower shot.
I was disturbed by the search
i hate ps 166
How could anyone hate PS 166, my beloved alma mater? Now, if they knew Ethel O. Ebin, the principal when I was there, I could understand hating her, nasty old bat. I wish I had a photo of her. She had a grubby beehive hairdo that looked like it housed rodents.
Other searches this week:
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That is all. Happy Friday.
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