The Loreal Extra-Intense Liquid Pencil Eyeliner? You want it.
Somethin’ for the laydeez! May 12, 2009
This is a total TMI post. But I had to share my new-old discovery. This is something I heard about a long ass time ago, but I was scared to try it. I thought it was a smelly hippie device at best. And just looking at it made me fear for the structural integrity of my delicate ladyflower. But much like Bridezillas and ginger ale before it, it has made my world a better place. It is…. The Diva Cup! In case you haven’t heard, this is a cup you put in your vadge to catch your precious life force as your uterus forcefully expels it from your body, purely for it’s own amusement. It is a clean, easy, earth-friendly way to pwn your womb. It sounds too good to be true and looks entirely too big and scary for something that never had a foreskin and probs wouldn’t do it’s job if lubed. But someone told me it works, and she knows what’s up so I got one. I will admit it’s a little difficult to get it in and out. You fold it up and such, but I use the small speculum, thank you. Don’t hate. Just do your kegels. I manage to get it situated though, and it creates a seal and catches everything very nicely. I have had no leakage, minimal discomfort and no yeasties! I can sleep in any position I want and work out every morning. And – little secret here – I no longer have to turn up the music at work and do the wedgie dance because my pad is rustling and relocating. There’s none of the horrible burning dryness and irritation of tampons. In fact, if it wasn’t for the debilitating pain, I wouldn’t know I was bleeding out like a wounded gazelle at all!
In other period news, the people who make the bacon chocolate bar make something called the Creole bar that will make the bitchiest uterus know it’s role and shut it’s mouth. It is rich, comforting, and doesn’t speak. And I could not ask for more.
Yes. February 13, 2009
Don't act like you don't want it.
This hot piece is from Laurel Crown. It must be popular because they even make a miniature one. You know, for dolls. So if you know Marie Osmond, I just did your holiday shopping for you. You may thank me by splashing some holy water on her and her little friends. I just know they get up when no one is looking and do her evil bidding.
One day, when lattelicious and I have a book/coffee/chocolate/chair massage place of bidness, this will be located somewhere therein. But perhaps in French Blue instead. Yes, I am going to have my furniture matched to a Victoria’s Secret thong. Don’t judge me.
The Video! February 5, 2009
Lucky us! There are fan videos for Sideline Ho. This one is set to a photo montage of Monica’s fabulous 90’s fashions.
Youse a ho, youse a ho, sideline ho… oh oh oh. February 3, 2009
I’ve recently come across this gem of a song by Monica. I’m sure we can all agree this is a classy tune, and fully deserves to be on the Girl Power 2 album (as it actually is) because of the powerful lyrics that portrays women in only the most high brow fashion. I highly recommend listening to it in it’s entirety, as Monica’s angelic voice truly brings out the beauty of the word “ho.”
Ho, Ho, Sideline Ho, Youse a ho, youse a ho, sideline ho
[Verse 1:]
When you called his phone, did he pick it up?
No, ’cause we was making love.
Did you meet his moms, have you met his kids? No, oh, did you know my kid was his?
No, oh.
[Chorus:]
Get your shit together you’re making a fool of yourself,
it don’t matter if he spends the night, his home is somewhere else
Ain’t you tired of being on the side line, tired of getting yours after I get mine baby?
second place don’t get a prize when you gone realize
you’re wasting your time baby
Ain’t you’re tired of him getting, hitting real quick, then rolling and
Ain’t you’re tired of when you need a little change and he lies about what he holding?
Ain’t you’re tired of spending all the holidays alone, tired of being his little sideline ho?
Do he take you out, do he foot your bills, no oh, ’cause I know what his balance is
have you been to his church,
do he ask you to pray, no oh ’cause Sunday’s Family day
[Chorus]
[Bridge x2:]
Do you got benefits, no, credit cards, no, house keys, no, then youse a sideline ho,
do you get pillow talk, no, held at night, no,
if you don’t make his breakfast then youse a sideline ho
[Chorus]
[x3:]
Youse a ho, Youse a ho, sideline ho
Why she always gotta call the law? November 30, 2008
The best song in the world is being removed from the net. That’s right, “From Her Mama (Mama Got Ass)” has been deleted from YouTube. Google found it elsewhere but I am suspicious. We will forever be deprived of Paul Wall’s braids. Probably because of financial issues. We should all smoke a bowl in it’s honor. If you are too grief-stricken, I will smoke yours for you. No need to thank me. That’s what friends are for.
A trip to Walgreens always cheers me up, and today I got batteries, eyeliner and candy canes. The manager totes gave me shade. Whatever. At least I don’t work at Walgreens. So I was buying eyeliner cuz this hot Greek bitch was telling me how she loves the Prestige liquid eyeliner. I would expect her to wear something much fancier, so I had to check it out. Did you know they make it glittery?! Glittery, bitches! I had to test it though, so I put it up against Wet ‘n Wild. I had mentioned them here recently and I thought I should give it a chance. And it was $2. And I heard the L’Oreal one sucks. And I don’t touch Maybelline. Cuz fuck you, Great Lash. So I put one on each lid and went about my business. And guess what? Wet ‘n Wild totes won! They make it glittery AND waterproof. I cry at sweet commercials, so waterproof is a must. The Prestige liner gave me sad Courtney Love raccoon eye while I watched Faith Hill’s Christmas concert. The color wasn’t that rich to begin with, either. It was thick, flat and very obviously painted on. It was just too stark a contrast on skin, which naturally looks rather soft and is just a bit translucent. WNW had some depth to it so it didn’t look too terribly unnatural. It lasted thru the concert and a disco nap and the applicator didn’t hurt. The Prestige applicator is just kind of a stick. Who cares about your safety? Rub this stick on your eyeball. WNW has this soft little brush that I found to be easier to manage, and it didn’t put any pressure on my $3000 corneal flaps. So there you go, you broke ass heffas. Your recession beauty tip of the…..well, of the recession cuz I have things to do dammit.
Suck it, Twilight. November 15, 2008
Yeah, I read that shit. WTF, dude? In the future I would appreciate it if children’s books were kept in the children’s section and/or burned. I wanted Lestat to jump out of the ferns and eat these bitches.
Still not as gay as Twilight.
Or better yet, let Claudia show them how it’s done. But it did, um, raise an interesting question. How do vampires get it up? See, the main dude in this romantical vampirey tale of sweetest high school loving love and infinite superferns has no heartbeat. That’s right ladies, no circulation. Lattelicious tells me that in the Anita Blake series, you’re not really a vampire til your manly bits knock the vase off the coffee table and have at it while the rest of you is still in the bathroom flossing pubes out of your fangs. And on that there sexy sex show with Rogue they seem to get by just fine thank you very much. They actually have blood to drain, so it makes enough sense to allow the necessary suspension of disbelief & I can enjoy the story. But not Twilight. Wikipedia says the childrens get married and make a baby, but I just don’t see how that’s plausible. Does he have to feed first? Is it a magical peen? Does God put the baby in her because they were good kids and waited til they were married? I really want to know. But am I curious enough to muddle through Stephanie Meyer’s writing again? God, no.
And yes, the new header is the Deppness.
Looking cadaverous makes me a sad panda. August 4, 2008
So I used to work with this girl. We’ll call her Traitor to her Sex Barbie. She was dating a professional soccer player. Have you seen those guys? Hotness. They pay me to slather them in precious oils. Yeah, you’re jealous. Don’t even lie. Anyway, I dunno if Barbie was scared to lose whatshisface or if she just felt insecure next to those hot bitches, but she got all tarted up in all the wrong ways every single day of her life. She looked like a HCwDB reject. Or that godawful be-tittied British tranny. The fat bald old janitor was all over her shit. She’d spend all morning primping in a security mirror, and you know I watched that train wreck religiously. She always frosted her cake face by slapping on two poorly blended splotches of glittery shit over the windows to the place where a normal person’s soul would be. Then the janitor would come creepin’ in all his sleeveless glory to wax poetic about her tits, and the cum he wishes to place thereon. Kidding! Kind of. Not really. He’s disgusting.
Point being, I wanted that glitter.
But her friend made it! Just for her! In NYC! And it couldn’t be shipped!
Well, her boyfriend has a dick only Michael Jackson could love. And I found my own magical glittery friend at Dreamworld Minerals. Yeah, her exclusive glittery shit was just mineral powder. Bitch. This site is old school, but judge not y’all. The product is fierce. They don’t have brow & lip pencils so you can roll chola fabulous, but you know you use Wet ‘N Wild and set it with Aqua Net so that shit stays proper. They’re not pimpin’ mascara either, as if I could be parted from L’Oreal anyway. I’ve tested pretty much all the Dreamworld products at work, and I haven’t gotten so much as one eyelid crease. No hairspray required. And like four people said I’m gorgeous! Okay, they were girl-people, but one day a big buff man will say somethin’ nice and I will sex him accordingly. Cuz I’m a lady.
Ugh. July 31, 2008
It’s Shark Week! And, it’s also Shark Week! That’s right, I’m sitting here holding my bloated belly watching great whites circle the future Darwin Award winners of America knowing that I can not go into the water for five more days. They can smell a drop of blood from a mile away! I think. It was something like that. It might have been two miles, even. But more importantly, when is Otter Week?
They wrap themselves in kelp so they don't float away while they nap! Thank you, PBS!
Matthew Broderick cheated! July 23, 2008
WITH A WOMAN! I know, right? The story is in the new “Star”. So, you know, go read it.
And all this time I thought their babymakin’ involved a needleless syringe and pictures of Anderson Cooper.
You have to wonder if all the speculation about his sexuality played into this at all. Of course it could just be a shitty marriage, but guys do weird things to prove themselves. And celebrities are always messing with our minds to create their image.
Maybe Carrie was in on it!
Okay, I’m just speculating and should shut up. And it is “Star”.
