In last week’s episode of “The Fashion Show“, there was a situation where the contestants were asked to use famous designers from the past as inspiration for a new piece of their own. Anna from Brooklyn had won the mini-challenge at the beginning of the episode and was given the opportunity to choose which contestant had to use each of the famous designers, and my favourite (and favourite to hate) designer, Reco, felt slighted by her choice for him. The following resulted:
I only tell you this so you’ll understand when this quote comes out of my mouth in every other sentence:
My pimp friend Mike Lowrey tells me this is old hat, but he did teach me another phrase, “out of pocket”. He says it means “out of control, which leads to a ho getting pimp slapped (a super backhand smack from a pimp usually done with the strength of Thor).”
You think you’re upset about Michael Jackson’s death?
Kamran’s the upset one. But he took a break from his rage long enough to think of the greatest newspaper headline for the situation: Jacko’s Cardiaco. OH! Score!
And now, in remembrance, a song that’s actually only great because of one of the other brothers’ solos:
I don’t know if I can fully express my love for beauty products. I’m, like, the least-girly of anyone I know–I have no idea how to apply foundation, and I couldn’t pluck my eyebrows if I tried–but there’s almost nothing I like more than buying lotion, lip gloss, and body wash. I like it to the point that I can try a product, totally hate it, break out in hives or contract HIV, and still buy it in another scent or flavor just in case.
Naturally, this means that I’m a sucker for anything new I see. Nevermind that being new likely means it’s not been tested on enough humans for everyone to find out that it causes cancer. Lately, I’ve been obsessed with the idea of the new Vaseline Cocoa Butter Vitalizing Gel Body Oil, but the thought of that gel inevitably hardening underneath my fingernails bothers me. But yesterday, while browsing the aisles of CVS, I found this, the CVS Continuous Spray Cocoa Butter Body Oil Dry-Touch:
I tried it for the first time this morning, and it’s amazing. It glides on as if it was hairspray, people. And it smells like cotton candy, according to Dr. Boyfriend. It is not, however, dry touch. Maybe I just used too much, but there’s still a wet ring of it around the base of my neck. Not that I’m complaining, because I keep messing with it and making everything on my desk smell like cotton candy.
Actually, come to think of it, this would be a great way to repel creepy men in the subway: the more I resemble an oil slick, the grosser it is to rub up against me.
Kevin Van Aelst is a New York/Pennsylvania/Connecticut artist who Kamran introduced me to last week. Kevin is a nerd, is not afraid to show it, and makes me very happy. To start your week off right, here are a few of my favourites:
One Heart Beat
Hawaii
Apple Globe
The Brain
And now you can go view the rest on your own and tell me your favourites.
If you’re like me, you obsess over the fact that Google Reader doesn’t update itself often enough to include your newest blog entries the moment you write them. I scoured the Innanet to find a solution but couldn’t see anything official. Here’s a great workaround, though:
1) If you’re using FeedBurner FeedFlares for things like displaying a link to comment on your feed (which you should be, OMG), you’ll want to make sure it’s aware of your latest post by pinging FeedBurner.
If you’re not using Feedburner (fool!), skip to step 3.
2) Give it anywhere between 10 seconds and 30 minutes, because pinging Feedburner only works about half of the time.
3) Bring your feed up on Google Reader and click the Refresh button right above your text.
Voila! Your feed will be updated for all to see, and you can go back to being obsessive-compulsive about something else.
I'm Katie, a farmgirl originally from Ohio who moved to NYC in 2005 for no apparent reason. I like vintage-looking things that are actually new, filagree everything, people who don't make me feel awkward, meaning it when I say "no sleep till Brooklyn", and not trying too hard.
