Conan O’Brien aired this “Palin on Oprah” bit, above, last night—re-editing bits and pieces of the former Alaska governor / vice-presidential candidate’s Monday appearance from the popular talk show. However, the funniest aspect of it was that, except for her slightly faster speaking tempo, she actually sounds pretty much the way she always does: As though there’s a 3/4 second delay between what comes out of her mouth and when she hears it do so.
My favorite part (and soon to be yours)?: Her shameless gush over her and her husband’s clearly robust sex life. Inspire us all once again, Sarah.
As opposed to being called a “cougar”—actor Demi Moore, 47, is famously married to 16-years-younger actor Ashton Kutcher, 31—W magazine’s December cover subject, above, says, in the mag’s profile, that “I’d prefer to be called a puma.”
Well, whatever the large cat, it looks like one of ’em just took a bite out of her hip.
Hey: Did you ever lie awake at night and wonder, “What would it feel like to be Ice-T’s wife, Nicole ‘Coco‘ Austin: Lying on the beach, getting a tan, and looking at the world from between my ginormous, saltwater-filled ta-tas?”
I know I sure have. That’s why I was so startled when the cello-esque Coco, right—nude model, actor, and dancer—posted this disconcerting POV shot, above, on Twitter:
This is my view when I tan. Honestly, my boobs don’t look this big, it has to do w/the cameras perception
Well, Coco, they do say the camera adds ten pounds.
(Also, I just noticed another odd optical illusion: Coco says that her jugs are fake while her butt is real. But if you take the above right photo, then scroll down and cut it off just above the small of her back, it looks like the neck and cleavage of a woman with implants. Weird.)
In the spirit of full disclosure, I’ve known Ice-T, right, casually, for years, have met his lovely wife, and she’s quite sweet. In fact, in the YouTube, below, Ice talks about the moment he first saw the woman he’d eventually marry.
What’s most striking about his description of the events, though, is the utterly un-baller way their chance meeting proceeds. I mean, telling her how beautiful she is? Magic tricks? Playa….
But, then, on the other hand, it worked, right? Who’s to argue with breas…er, I mean success?
UK designer / retailer Last Exit To Nowhere makes T-shirts for, perhaps, the most dedicated of movie fans: Those so geeked out on a particular film that they crave the logos of its barely mentioned, even merely-alluded-to, fictional corporations.
I don’t mean, like, say, The Daily Planet, Superman / Clark Kent’s well-known, Metropolis-based, but nonexistent newspaper. We’re talking more like Weyland-Yutani, Inc., above, the interplanetary megacorporation; owner-operator of the massive Nostromo and Sulaco spaceships from Alien and Aliens, respectively. Or the Slaughtered Lamb, that unfriendly-to-strangers, soupless pub in An American Werewolf in London. Have you ever thought of spending a winter weekend at the Overlook Hotel, right? Believe me: Not if you saw The Shining, first.
With stylized imagery representing fake companies in flicks from The Silence of the Lambs to Back to the Future; Jaws, right, to National Lampoon’s Vacation, there’s probably something for every cinema nerd out there. Hoodies abound, as do caps and fitted tops for ladies. There’s even a kids’ section, so you can start decking out your future aesthete early. Last Exit To Nowhere movie tees, $30; hoodies, $50. Sizes S to XXL. Hats, $20, one size fits all. Shipping to U.S., $6.65 for the first item, $1.70 for each additional item. So, unlike a Cahulawassee River expedition, you won’t get screwed…on the price.
Feast your eyes, folks, on the above test pattern. It’s from my personal collection, and was actually produced by yours truly: An embroidered reproduction of a compass-shattering piece by Phase II, writer, artist, musician (right), and historian in the trade of aerosol art.
After eyeing this immaculate conception in Phase and David Schmdlapp’s 1996 treatise, Style: Writing from the UnderGround, I strove to have it perfectly captured in thread, with the goal of licensing the design directly from the master. While those plans haven’t taken off yet, the image is so intricate and fetching that I use it as a desktop. But if you’re cogitatin’ about doin’ the same…don’t bite my style.
The music video is crap. “All Right Now”‘s incendiary production, and blazing performance by Patti LaBelle, above, though, are both out of this world. Check out this studio masterpiece from her her 1992 Live! album. Play loud.
In the work of L.A.-based artist Michael Hussar, nymphs decadently suck crimson fruit, their skin puffy and blanched, save for blackened, spearlike fingertips.
Crawling the razor’s edge between erotica and rot, pieces like 2008’s Cherry Pie, above, unnerve the viewer in the gut…before being snatched up hungrily by Francis Ford Coppolla, Leonardo Di Caprio, and their ilk. Bon appetit.
Well, hell has a sequel. On November 17th, in Left For Dead 2 (Xbox 360/PC), Valve revisits the world where an unnamed pandemic is turning human corpses into fast-moving, flesh-eating gargoyles. However, this time, one of the four playable “survivors” is a Black woman, above. Hell better step the hell back.
I know I sure have. That’s why I was so startled when the cello-esque Coco, right—nude model, actor, and dancer—posted this disconcerting POV shot, above, 
In the spirit of full disclosure, I’ve known Ice-T, right, casually, for years, have met his lovely wife, and she’s quite sweet. In fact, in the YouTube, below, Ice talks about the moment he first saw the woman he’d eventually marry.
With stylized imagery representing fake companies in flicks from 
Feast your eyes, folks, on the above test pattern. It’s from my personal collection, and was actually produced by yours truly: An embroidered reproduction of a compass-shattering piece by Phase II, writer, artist, musician (right), and historian in the trade of aerosol art.
