Hot Karl

website love & lust

"I hate children, charity is boring, I hate to be touched"
-k. lagerfeld

oh, lord. what kind of person....what kind of robot....what kind of alien is mister lagerfeld? hahahahaha.

*f

Laugh It Up Tuesday.

love it.

End of Ze World.

All we need to know we learned from YouTube.

Have a laugh, it's the beginning of the week.
Have a laugh, put it on repeat.
Sometimes Mondays we feel like a bitch.
Sometimes Mondays we are like the western witch.
But ya gotta suck it up and get over the hump.
Eat your turkey sandwich and stop being a grump.

*f & j

Crank It.

Don't you love stuff that just makes ya laugh instantly?

Not for a solid reason, just 'cuz?

For us, it can be a photo.

Or, a ridiculous song.

Crank it bitch.

A Ghost, a Tranny & a Family Have a Picnic

Do you get scared of the dark? Do you turn off your bedroom light and then - quick! - run to bed before they get you? Do you hold your breath when the lights go out anytime anywhere, and look around you (at nothing) in a paranoid fervor until they come back on?

Then this commercial is for you.* Straight outta Sylvania, and a shout-out to VSL for letting us in on the delight of it.

Enjoy. ;)

*j

*This commercial is also for you if you like to laugh. Or you like ghosts. Or you like cool fantastical creatures. Or transvestites. Or all of the above. Or none of the above.

Q of the D

art love, via its nice that

"I'm gonna get naked in just a minute, so you better watch out!"
-'Big Edie'

Ohh, those Beale lady loves are so poignant. Indeed! Cheerio! Where's my tea?

*j

In-N-Out Burger.

Oh totally Jude, we couldn't agree more.

We fell asleep in June (we think), woke up to our own wintery snore (in December).

We have been in 'n out just as fast as you can order an animal style burg (meat is cooked and fried in mustard and then pickles are added then extra spread then grilled onions totally yum) off the top secret urban legend menu.

Put some mustard on it!

*f

We're Hunnngry

art love

Twiddle-dee-dee, twiddle-dee-dum... how fast is this month flying by, rum-drums? Hi and Bye, in like a lion out like an empty paycheck.

*j

Honesty Killed the Cat

photo love

*

Oh boysie Idaho... No you da ho... Haha that never gets old for us.

Sometimes we miss school. Well, almost all the time. The papers. The binders. The binder dividers. (!!!) The crumbling textbooks with thousands of pages to read, all in a night. Questions to answer, boxes to check, to do lists to X the hay off, one at a dozens of time. Hours of daydreaming in boring classes, at our desk in our own little hobbit hole of a worldsies. Oh, the fun we had having others to tie our shoes and dot our i's and pay our bills.

*

After all, with rose-colored glasses on we can remember just about anything our itty heart chooses to remember, dumplings. But when we think, when we reeeally think, about how it went and how it goes and the trips we took down the stairs all to land on our face, then it gets real, yo. We imagine a gameshow setting with Johnny Carson hosting. And he queries us ever so seriously:

*

Q: What is the most important thing you learned in school, Mary Magdalene Frances Moonpie Judithe Reagan Magee?

A: Why, gosh Johnnie Rotten, we learned how to worry our little brains so much they squeezed out our earsies.

*

Ohh, but the way the world goes round, and the things we utter when honesty hits and the coffee wears off. Yes, we certainly learned how to worry about life and friends and the pursuit of happiness & champagne. But we also learned how to love and smile and pass notes in class to our besties.

*

And so, we must admit, when we take off the rose-colored glasses, we really don't miss school all that much. We washed our hands and shook out our hair and we're done with that role we played with so much gusto. Now, it's on to different adventures with dinners out and house keys jangling and bottles of wine to drink... and yet, still lots of laughing and lots of passing notes in class. Er, emails at work, we mean.

*

But if we could go back to school, we hope we would have the cojones to turn in an answer like dear, dear Jathum up there. Because now that is telling it how it is, no rose-colored glasses in the farthest of sights.

*

*

*j

Poop Jokes Are Funny.

Where: The Walnut Room in the old Marshall Field's. Err, Macy's (cringe).
Who: Our mother Jenniballs; Us.
When: Saturday. During the Christmas-shopping-mad-combat-like-rush-of-mayhem-and-desire-and-people-dive-bombing-like-birds-and-walruses-into-aisles.
Why: Your guess is as good as ours?

Jballs:....So we were having dinner in Evanston last night. This really great Italian place, and I ordered the calamari. I've never had calamari....
Fran: YOU'VE NEVER HAD CALAMARI?!???
Jballs: I know! I know. That's exactly what your dad said. Anyway we had calamari and wine. And split some salmon and pasta. And the next morning I was just in the bathroom and it was just....
Fran: Why are you telling me this. Seriously, do I need to hear this. No really. Do I. Do I. No, really.
Jballs: Well anyway, I told your dad- I think I pooped a squid!

*f

Syrup Love.

Where: The Bathroom.

When: This Morning, after Breakfast.

Why: To clarify why it is we do wash, after Pancakes.

Fran (ageless): "Okay, let's wash up. Come on, faces and..."  

Alex (7): "I know! I already know!!!!!! Cause you get fuzzies on your hands after you eat pancakes!"

hahahaha,

*f

Oh Christmas Tree, Sweet Christmas Tree

Oh my. Oh dearies. Oh happy day for all small town American moonpies. And we proudly include ourselves in that lineup. We'll meet you at the tree in this sweet vid with a bag of Doritos and some Natty Light. Peace out, fried lambchops.

*j

My Moustache Itches!

photo love

Oh, oh!! Another great find from darling deary Cup of Jo - how can you resist a smile at this very moment, cupcakes? Beards and stripes and fantastical hairy creations! The Beard and Moustache Championship revealed some bizarrely darling facial art, mon cheries. And we could not be happier campers on this fine Friday morn.


*j

Lighten Up, Ya Monkeys

cartoon love

*snicker, snicker.*


*j

Hello! My Name is Myself.

photo love

So.

A few days ago, our dear friend Michigan Marky sent out an email to our shared study abroad friend group. This boy is majorly smart. Works marjorly hard. And is majorly fun. Majorly. Totally. For sure. Rad. Okay that's good.

So, recently, Mark decided to take it down on a notch on the whole drinking thing. Like, a motorcycle to a ten-speed. A H3 to a skateboard. He's like going green about drinking, kinda. BUT. The way he made this announcement was just sortta fucking hilarious. We just had to share it:

So, about two weeks ago I decided it was time to setup a meeting with myself to go over a few "personal issues". I logged onto my Outlook Calendar which basically runs and controls my life from about 7am to 9pm Monday - Saturday... and thankfully found a 15 minute gap on a Tuesday, October 30th, so I added myself to the meeting and set it to private. Come Tuesday at 1:15pm, 5 minutes before the meeting I found myself sweating bullets and bout ready to drop a load in my pants. Why you ask? Why am shitting my pants over a meeting with myself? Well, I knew the dreadful day of reckoning was bout to hit and so-called responsible Mark was bout to take over. 1:20pm hit, so i grabbed myself by the collar and dragged my sweaty, turtlehead ass to the 1st floor Starbucks, sat myself down, looked myself in the eyes and almost slapped myself. "Mark", I said..."Its time to realize soemthing...you drink yourself to stupidity each and every weekend, wake up in the morning hung-over, puking, and clueless what you did the night before or for that matter who you did (jk)." I shrugged my shoulders, put my head down and nodded. I said, "Its time to call it quits".

*Plus, (True or False) does your planner rule your life like it does Mark's and ours? When did we become responsible adults? We still crave Pixie Stix and middle recess. Ugh. But we commend and give much respek to Marky. What a brave soul to face his own self in a meeting, especially when he really had to take a poo (from the sound of it).

-f

Top That

This makes us cringe, pee our pants, and poop ourselves simultaneously. Teen Witch hilariouty.

*f

Zippity-Doo-Dah-Outta-Yer-Assholes!

At the end of the long hard day, we just want to smile. We just want to laugh. And we just want to dance.

Our darling doo-doo Strippity-Doo sent us this video, and, it might've just been coincidence or it might've just been luck, but it came at a moment when the world was not sugary-sweet smiling down upon our heads and on top of that we had just glared at the postman for we're not exactly sure what. And then we got this video, and we pressed play, and we waited a second or three, and then we found ourselves smiling. And then laughing. And then dancing.

Oh, this world is a wonderful place. So please press play when your boss leaves the room, and shake it. Shake it. Shake it... well, you know the rest.

*j

(Also, please note that there will be a sequel to this post. We can't tell you the who what and why, but we can say it involves our darling Frances. And Halloween. And a certain mask borrowed from a certain boss. So check back often and soon. It's worth the wait, we swear like a horny sailor in a porno.)

A Dollop of Trollops

Oh, my. Oh, dearies. We simply do not know what to say about these photos. But we'll do our bestest.

In this edition of October 31 Halloween Extravaganza Madness, we bring you the famous, the infamous and the tabloid hos. Ohhh, boy, oh boy. This, our friends and friendly foes, is what you call perspective. And it begs the inevitable question, what is fame?

photo love, via VSL

The obvious answer, deary darling photo mavens, is that fame is us. With better hair and makeup. Fame is Larry King in an old lady getup. Fame is Bennifer getting old and fat and happy. So enjoy, feel good about yourself, and please be sure to check out the pic of JLo in a tracksuit. Priceless, we tell you, absofuckinglutely priceless.

*j

A Tuesday Truth

We la la la loved it, no shit. In our book Wes Anderson is way up there with...Oprah. Vanna. Hot dogs. Cupcakes. Jamiroquai. Gold jewelry and shoes. Pugs, bunnies, babies, and yogurt covered snacksies.

*f

I'll be 30 next month, and I plan on living forever.

Do you fancy yourself open-minded and maybe a little fuckin' weird? Do you think trolls, wizards, and ghosts are kinda hilarious- in most contexts? Have you ever tried to read The Bible or eat a salad and found that both were kinda sucky?

Well you should meet Baby Cakes, the giant man-child created by the darkly sparkly mind of South Park writer and cartoonist, Brad Neely. Episodes are posted on superdeluxe.com and Neely posts new shorts every 6-10 days on the site. And uh, bring a change of clothes. Because you might just poop your pants laughing.

*f