Your Career Is Like Watching Paint Dry

I'd understand this from Martha Stewart. Actually, I think she HAS a paint line. I think Cindy Crawford's furniture line is weird, though I don't find it hideous. There have been some successful "You're selling what, now?" spokeperson deals in the world.

But this... this is new. According to the Daily Mail, Claire Danes is a spokesperson for Valspar Paint. Bwahuh?

I like Claire Danes. She bears more than a passing resemblance to my friend Caitlin (always has, ever since My So-Called Life), I liked her in Shopgirl. She's nominated for an Emmy for a mini-series I've never seen about a woman I've never heard of; she got to celebrate in Rome, for god's sake! She had that whole teen alt-idol thing going (oh, Baz. I appreciate your Romeo & Juliet so much more now than I did when I was a surly teen), and she's married to this handsome, talented British guy:

So, with a stellar life like this, shouldn't she be representing something... I don't know... better? Oh right right... she does hock Latisse, that eyelash thing. Because her eyelashes are apparently a shameful body flaw she must correct. Short lashes! Fuck you, you're out of the biz, uggo!

...

Not better.

Or maybe she could've consider avoiding going the corporate route in the first place? She has Hollywood street cred. She's not a Kardashian (love Shoedazzle!).

Look at her, she's really hustling the stuff too:

I especially love the designer clothes and 4 inch stilettos- "why yes, I DO paint my house dressed like this! Paint never gets on me. I'm Claire Fucking Danes!"

It's as though you can see her really thinking- how the hell do I glamorize a PAINT BRUSH? It's sort of sad, in a weird, money-grubbing way.

Someone should talk to her publicist.

Need Another Ribbon On The Back of Your Car?

It is my goal to one day cover my car entirely in empty causes. The Childhood Goat Trauma Foundation is surely one of them. An "informal support group for problems that were the result of traumatic experiences at petting zoos as children", the CGTF is doing some important work. (Yes, I know it's fake).

Petting zoos are scary!! Frankly... I've had more run-ins with camels than goats (due to the unfortunate camel toe incident at the Creation Museum), but frankly, that experience just showed me that all creatures are not God's creatures, no matter what the religious far right says.

On that subject... wouldn't you expect more religious people to be environmentalists?

Buy a t-shirt here. They're pretty funny.

Facebook Will Ruin Your Life. If You're a Moron.

As seen on Geekologie.

Why I Never Liked Dolls. (Those creepy eyes!)

Meet Bebe Gloton, the Spanish sensation that's sweeping the nation, according to the Daily Mail.

Anyone else totally have the creepers from this video? Even the little girl doesn't seem to be having much fun. The little apron with the petal nipples? *shudder* Again, I know it's natural, blah blah blah. But this is one toy I wouldn't want my kid pulling out at the Steak & Shake, you know?

Anyone Else See the Innuendo?

Or am I the only dirty bird?

I love that it's two and a half pounds... you may as well just grab a can of Campbell's and jiggle it around for all the good it'll do. I wonder if the "prestigious California university" would find that effective as well!

I'm Officially Old

Does anyone else find themselves worrying about the girl in this ad campaign by American Apparel? I'm worried she's either unwittingly found herself in casting couch porn ('Do...do I have to?' 'You wanna get into show business, don't ya?') or getting "sexted", as the kids say these days, all across her high school.

Either way, it makes me shudder.

I'll Give It Two Years Before You Totally Regret This.

I'll bet $50 this girl dreams of the day she meets Robert Pattinson, not realizing that instead of causing him to profess undying love, it causes him to get a restraining order.

Geekologie has a whole gallery of Twi-tats... check it out. It makes me really sad.

But... Then Where Would I Keep My Remote?

Do you have huge knockers? Whether you got them from nature or from Dr. Feelgood, it doesn't matter, those of us with enormous melons can all be helped by today's questionable product, the Kush Support, designed to keep you from getting wrinkly cleavage. From the website:

"After comprehensive research and testing, Kush was developed as an anatomically contoured accessory offering both health and beauty benefits. Made from a lightweight plastic with a slip-resistant outer coating, Kush is uniquely designed to fit between the breasts to maintain a more natural shape while resting on your side. No straps, no underwires, no constraints, no adhesives and no garments needed - the slip-resistant surface and contoured shape help keep Kush in place as a woman rolls from one side to the other during sleep."

It's a little steep at $55, when I could just as easily shove a can of creamed corn in between the girls... but if the professionals at the best little whorehouse in Texas use them, I guess I probably should too! Seriously- what's with her pajamas? Does anyone actually sleep in things like that?

Product Site here!

That Was... Predictable.

In a twist that surprises no one, Kimberley Vlaminck (that impulsive little imp with 56 stars on tattooed on her face) has now admitted that she was a damn dirty liar that blames other people for her problems.

According to the Daily Mail, Vlaminck told a Dutch TV crew that she adored the stars when she first got them, but her father was furious when he saw what his fool daughter did, so like any overprivileged teenager worth her salt, she lied to the world and got someone else in trouble. Get this girl into politics!!!

We're not upset at what you did, Kimberley, we're upset that you lied about it. Wow... did I just sound like my mother? I DID. Anyway, this prompted me to assemble a gallery of tattoos people will SURELY regret.

Not only do we have unicorns banging, one of them is smoking a cigarette. Class all the way!! I wonder if this is on a guy or a girl.

Who wouldn't want a picture of Toothless Mary and her appendix scar on their arm? What a way to give a shout-out to the town hooker.

Now, I love this movie. I do NOT, however, love it enough to immortalize it on my calf. It also took me several moments to realize that's not a brain at the bottom, but a tot.

That WoW stat bar will be "LVL Down" in 20 years time.

Actually, I love this one. I can't even think of how to describe how much I love LOL Jesus.

This is one of several variations I found on the "butthole" tattoo. Yes! Your belly button looks like a butt! Way to go... that's permanent.

Naked, bucktoothed Indian riding a corndog. Welp... if you're getting a stupid tattoo, you may as well go balls-out.

You may be, but your tattoo artist is not... "awsome".

That is serious dedication to the Frosty. I love me some Dunkin's, but I'm not getting "America Runs" needled into my ass.

A Creepy Tribute

Watch a lot of mid-morning television? Have $149 you want to throw in the toilet? Really dig porcelain figurines? Trying to figure out SOME WAY to prove your love for the First Lady? Look no more. The Danbury Mint will solve all of these conundrums in one fell swoop, with the Michelle Obama Inaugural Doll.

Standing at 16 inches and fully poseable (though those arms will look weird doing anything else), Michelle will be a lovely addition to your dust-collecting group of eerily realistic dolls. If you want this, I will bet that you have a Princess Diana Engagement Plate laying around somewhere in your home.

The Comfort Wipe: Because You're a Filthy, Filthy Creature.

Oh, it's real. Check out the Product Site.

I can't imagine that this is all that "ergonomic"... my buttcheeks aren't 4 inches apart. Perhaps that's one of those "disadvantages" of being a big person that dude is talking about? Anyway, you're going to have wedge that thing in there.

Also... what disability do you imagine that classy WASP having that requires her to have someone else wipe her ass?

You Look Stupid: Why You Never Ask for a Tattoo On Your Face.

This is 18 year old Belgian, Kimberley Vlaminck. Kimberley claims she asked for 3 stars on her face, by her eye... which is foolish enough ("Granny? What are those green droopy things on your face?"). This is what she got instead.

According to the Daily Mail, she's trying to sue the tattoo artist, stating that he didn't understand her in English or French:

'I think he didn’t understand what I wanted. He spoke only fractured English and French.
'But I explicitly said in my native tongue, French, and also in a little bit of English when he looked confused, that I wanted three little stars only near my left eye.'

This is key area number one. If someone who's about to needle ink permanently under your skin ever looks confused, stop. Stop right there and draw a picture.

Key area number two:

She claims she fell asleep while he was doing his work... and awoke to 'this nightmare'.
'It is terrible for me,' said Kimberley. 'I cannot go out on to the street, I am so embarrassed. I just look horrible.'

You're a shitty liar, Kimberley. Anyone in the world who's ever had a tattoo will tell you that you aren't asleep... ESPECIALLY IF YOU'RE GETTING A NEEDLE STUCK REPEATEDLY IN YOUR FACE. If you did fall asleep, you shouldn't have eaten that Space Cake.

The tattoo artist basically called her out on her shenanigans, saying she was awake for the whole thing and looked in the mirror several times. Sounds like SOMEONE got busted by her parents for being a moron.

Today's Questionable Product

I really don't mean to examine the world of products developed for "down there" on a daily basis here on Fonzipan, but I couldn't bypass the Cuchini, the product developed due to the mass conversion to the Brazilian. As the website states, there "ain't no bush for the cush". I have to tell you, I never made the connection myself. Clearly, I have not been using my time wisely.

As if we needed more things to worry about... now we need to stick a cup in our panties? When do we say "enough is enough"? Do guys have such questionable products? Now I have to investigate.

Product site here.

PS- don't ask me about the arrow in this picture... I just got it off the website. Maybe it's an "I'm with stupid" arrow for the purchaser?

There's Such a Thing as Going TOO Green.

Yeah... that's exactly what you think it is. Some looney toon at etsy.com (a site I normally adore, think stylish craft ebay) set up her own shop called Randumosity in order to foist upon the world her idea of green living:

Etsy Eco-Tip: "Reuse, Reduce and Recycle"Using cloth menstrual pads will lessen your contribution to the landfill!
Added on May 4, 2009

Honestly? I know, I know...fact of life and all that, but the earth-burning Westerner in me begs you to consider the logistics: who wants this thing hanging around their drawer? Is flannel really that... absorbent? I think the thing that makes these so objectionable is the gaggingly cutesy "femininity" with which she chose the designs.

Here are some of the more disturbing fabric choices this ghastly woman made:

Just what we all love being referred to... especially during that special time.

I'm all for retro, but in this situation, Care Bears seem completely inappropriate.

This brings a new meaning to "Ants in your pants". I suspect this was made without a shred of irony.

That's a Weirdly Specific Job.

Remember how I was all upset about House and what will heretofore be known as "That Stupid Suicide Episode" yesterday? No? Let me recap.

Fox touted Monday's show as "the one episode that comes along every season that BLOWS YOUR MIND." I hate when networks advertise like this. Do people really fall for it? It's as bad as when every single Law & Order was "RIPPED FROM THE HEADLINES".

So anyway, one of the new doctors randomly shot himself. At the end of the episode there was a Public Service Announcement type message "if you are considering suicide, call this number", which is frankly, completely un-House. It could only have been made worse if they made Hugh Laurie narrate it. Actually, I hope they asked and he told them to pound sand.

Making it even worse... the House website has an honest to god memorial to the character. Not the actor, the character. Obviously, House watchers are drooling simpletons that can't distinguish between reality and television.

Way to go, Fox. It's situations like this that cause fairy godmothers to curse children.

ANYWAY...apparently there was a need to get Kumar off the show rather sharpish, because he's joining the Obama Administration. NPR reports:

Actor Kal Penn has been named to an Obama administration liaison post that connects the Executive Branch to people in the entertainment industry and Asian-Pacific groups. Penn is best known for his portrayal of Kumar in the stoner films Harold and Kumar Go To White Castle and Harold and Kumar Escape From Guantanamo Bay. He was most recently in the Fox TV drama House.

So I guess kudos to him... because clearly, this is a man that should hold office.

Upperclass America Takes It's Love of Fleece Too Far.

Fleece... the first choice in outerwear by upper-class white people. Behold the Peekaru, the fleece to keep baby warm on those long treks to your BMW X5.

Because what do upper-class people like to do more than anything else? Flaunt their spawn and ability to find love with their homogenous-looking spouses in front of the general population, getting as close as possible to carrying a banner that says "WE FUCK!!", without actually having the banner. Because apparently that would be tackier than the "Smitten", mittens for lovers.

I know it's difficult, choosing between your love of fleece and love for your spouse... but now you don't have to. You can shamelessly flaunt both with sweaty palm hand-holding in the tandem mitten: "My nose itches!" "Awwww I'll scratch it for you, poopsie!!" *HORF*

Where can one pick up the Smitten? Restoration Hardware, where apparently it was so popular that they are currently sold out.

Thanks to Sis in Law for the Peekaru tip, and I'll do you one better:

Photoshops courtesy of Emptees, via Geekologie. Natch.

I Am Karma's Bitch

My back has revolted against me this morning, which is odd, because I spent yesterday with my lazy ass on the couch catching up on Tivoed SVU reruns, so it's certainly not an activity-based injury.

I'm thinking that it is perhaps karmic payback for hiring a cleaning lady. Sure, I live in a one-bedroom apartment, but if I can pay someone to do something I don't want to do, I'm going to do it, dammit. I would THINK that in this economy that employing someone would be smiled upon by Karma. That slippery whore. I also hobbled to my car this morning only to find that my right passenger tire has died a terrible death after failing to clear an Evil Knievel-style leap over an enormous pothole. Hooray for me!!

So here I am at work, shuffling along like a senile old woman who's misplaced her walker at the WalMart, trying to reason with the most irrational people on the planet, bemoaning the fact that a car is really nothing but a money pit, desperately wishing that the Vicoden I took would make the pain go away, and not just make everything feel so soft. This desk... it's like goosedown!

This Brings a New Meaning to "China White"

Those drug cartels are getting creative!! According to the Daily Mail, 45 pounds of cocaine was compressed into a 42-piece china set and apprehended in Spain. My guess is that they aren't dishwasher safe.

On an separate addiction note... the Twilight dvd is in my possession!!! Feel free to come and watch. Give in to that embarrassing urge.

The extra features are short and lame... and all introduced by director Catherine Hardwicke, in the worst DVD marketing ever. Hello... who do we all want to look at? A wiggle-worm stoner in her 40's that never blinks, or Robert Pattinson?

That's a rhetorical question, by the way.PS ... this has to be my final Twilight post for a while. As I look through my posts for the last week... it's turned to a mild obsession that borders on cougar territory.

Fat Is a Dirty Word

It's a regular feature on Dateline: NBC and 60 Minutes, and Tyra was a little TOO excited to don her own. As I was perusing the Daily Mail today, as is my gossipy custom, the dreaded fat suit reared its ugly head once more. The title of this article? What Happened When We Sent a "Fattie" to London Fashion Week? Kate Faithfull Reports Back On Her Week On the Fatwalk. Lovely.


I know the Daily Mail has a journalistic brain the approximate size of a walnut, but I absolutely DETEST the use of a fat suit. It is incredibly insulting to think that because one walked around in a pillow all day that they understand what it is like to be obese.



While I will discuss whether these pioneers find any true insight to the social factors of corpulence, I want to first discuss the physical reality of obesity. Zipping up a padded suit doesn't add the extra pressure to joints and organs that true weight produces. Being fat is uncomfortable... a situation that Faithfull seems unable to realize:

When I zip up the fat suit in front of the mirror at home the day before the shows, I feel absurdly comfortable, warm and snuggly. It is on loan from fancy dress shop Angels, who usually lend it to am-dram productions...It feels as cosy (and as hot) as being wrapped in a duvet.

Being fat is not just like being swathed in a Snuggie. Fat is a PART of you, not something that one sheds at the end of the day like a winter coat.

The effect, though, is very soft and sexy. There are no rolls of wobbly flesh: my stomach is gently rounded and my magnificent bosom looks like something you’d want to rest your head on and fall asleep in for 100 years.

This is one of my true problems with fat suits- the results are not realistic. You're walking around in a pillow... things stay perky and fluffed out. Fat has weight... and things droop, sag and roll. A woman donning a fat suit is not spending hours in front of a mirror contemplating whether the material of her shirt is too thin because her belly button is casting a shadow, or whether she needs to buy a different dress because this one shows her back fat.

Being overweight is insidious- something that someone deals with over time. As such, so many of the judgments are internal: am I the biggest person in the room? Will I fit in the seat next to that person on the train? I am so busy scrutinizing myself that the supposedly "shocking" revelations about how the general public treats fat people is surprisingly not on my mind the majority of the time. I have, indeed, never noticed someone snickering as I reached for the Pringles. I don't mean to say it hasn't happened, but I have to live my life every day looking the way I do; if I kept an ear open for every comment, or watched for every gawker, I'd never be able to leave the house.

I often suspect that the treatment that fat-suiters often receive is because they are so clearly playing a part; humans are fairly adept at sniffing out trickery (for all that Howie Mandel says otherwise), and I feel that this is what people often respond to. We must also remember that these primetime specials and articles are edited to include the most abhorrent behavior that the journalist received, and as such, we may only be seeing the two or three ignorant jackasses that exist. We may also never know if these cads were provoked... this is an age of ratings and rampant yellow journalism after all. Which brings us back to the Daily Mail's attempt at social experiments:

As I wait in the busy queue for the show, surrounded by hundreds of air kisses that aren't aimed at me, I feel everyone's eyes upon me. But when I try to make eye contact and smile back, the wall of pupils fixed on me roll away. I am the elephant in the room. Do they think that fat is catching?
But maybe I'm imagining the way these people stare and then look into the middle distance just beyond my left ear. 'No,' says Nick, the photographer I've brought with me. 'Everyone is definitely gawping at you.'

Of course they're gawping at you... this is the most ridiculously fake looking fat suit I've ever seen. Not only is your face so normally sized that you look like a bloated tick, but you can see the lines of your padding. If they were staring at anything, they were wondering why you were in costume. You're also wearing the most hideous combination of 80's colors I can imagine.

What is the goal of these fat suit exposes? Are these people trying to break ground here? What ugliness of the human condition are they shedding light on, cruelty or obesity? The reality is that what it's really like being fat is lost on reporters that take a tour in a fat suit, because at the end of the day, these bright, successful thin people go back to their ordinary lives.

Ugly Is the New Black.

Oh I missed you guys. I have so much to tell from my vacation (Creation Museum? Holy Crap.), but as I am still collecting my thoughts (and pictures), that'll have to wait. Until then, as you may or may not know, it's Fashion Week in New York... which means that the ridiculous are on parade. For your enjoyment, I trolled through New York Magazine's Fashion section, and picked out a few of my favorites. The couture shows are typically more...absurd, but there were some stand outs from the RTW shows.

I realize I probably should have credited the designers here, but I didn't really think about that until it was way, WAY too late to go back and find them all. So they can suck it.

Just in time for Mardi Gras.

This is the DESIGNER. Not Joking. Though I guess I can't fault him for being all about drama on the runway... if he shows up to dinner wearing this, we may need to have a talk.

Hefty hefty hefty!

Clowns scare the crap out of me, and this is close enough. Kind of reminds me of Babes in Toyland. Please god I hope that wasn't the inspiration for this collection.

This guy looks so miserable I don't even know where to start. He's featured a TON in this show, too.

Goes to show that M.I.A.'s issue wasn't that she had her big preggo belly hanging out... the dress is just plain hideous.

Slap a hat and some riding boots on him and he's Ryan from High School Musical.

Do I even need to make the Hammer joke here? I'm sure you can do it on your own.

This is the start of a disturbing Star Wars trend to the Fall 2009 fashion.

Am I right or am I right?? Looks like something you'd find on Naboo.

Storm Troopers. I'm telling you.

Yeah, I don't know either.

At first I thought this was a mannequin. Then I realized it is a completely terrifying mask.