Add our headlines to any RSS reader (Google, Bloglines, My Yahoo!, Technorati, etc.) or get the XML/RSS feed:
|

Use this code to display the headlines on your website.

Link to us with this:

Since I didn't find the book on the International Star Registry website, I called them up to ask them about it. Evidently, there are seven volumes of Your Place in the Cosmos, with the latest one being volume 7, containing stars named from July 2002 to July 2004. The book costs $44.95 + $9.00 shipping.

While I was on the phone, I asked whether I could name a dwarf planet after someone. I was astounded that the Star Specialist on duty was not aware of dwarf planets. Perhaps this shocking inexperience led to their company's Amazon listing of vol. 5 being titled Your Place in the Cosmo's [sic].

If you're willing to pay the money, I wonder if they'll let you name a whole galaxy using all of George Carlin's dirty words. In addition to Valentine's Day chocolates, you could give your sweetheart a telescope and the coordinates for Shit, Piss, Fuck, Cunt, Cocksucker, Motherfucker, and Tits. And what if Tits goes supernova? Do you get your money back?

If you care, here's some actual journalism about this "name a star" racket.

Girls with "Girlfriends"

I've wrote before about the proclivity of women to compliment other women about their appearance in ways that heterosexual men would never do about other men. Here's something else I don't understand: women who call their friends "girlfriends". This is either extremely juvenile or just plain dorky.

Why the need to identify the gender of your friend? It's usually clear from the context, anyway. When I talk about my "friend", the world doesn't fucking implode from the ambiguity.

It goes without saying that a guy who calls his male friend a "boyfriend" would be presumed gay. And a woman who uses "boyfriend" would presumably be talking about her romantic partner. Plus, women's heterosexual use of "girlfriend" must really fuck with a lesbian's ability to indicate her love interest. Hence, the boring alternative: "partner". When a lesbian talks about her "partner", I don't know if she's an entrepreneur, a lawyer, or just licks pussy. Or all of the above.

Slütty Pants

It's time for this fad to die. I don't care how good your ass is, I don't want to see the word "Sexy" written anywhere on it. Do me a favor, let me make my own evaluations. The solemn word of your sweatpants will not sway me. Chances are, the word "Sexy" written on your ass in big, pink letters will force me to uphold a standard so high that your ass will never meet it. You tell me, in essence, "I have a great ass", my immediate reaction is: "Oh, yeah? Who the fuck says so?"

Sweatpants are fine (except in cases when "Sexy" would be blatant false advertising), so don't get me wrong. I will look at your ass, and I'll look at it regardless of whether your pants tell me to or not. But telling me to look at your ass, which is what wearing any word across your ass clearly does, is nothing but a novel way of combining the concepts of "cute" and "slutty". If I were an anticommercialistic cunt, I might even say these sweatpants were the big, greedy corporations' way of smuggling sluttiness downward an age bracket. You know, get chicks hooked on being sluts earlier and they'll buy your makeup, tight pants, fishnet stockings, and push-up bras later, when they're sixteen.

Please, don't give me the "cute and innocent" argument. A fifteen-year-old telling everyone walking two blocks behind her to check out her ass is not cute. It's slütty.

Incidentally, adult women who wear tight shirts with small words written across their chests are absolutely free to continue this practice. You must, of course, allow men the time to finish reading whatever's written, so if you get self-conscious when we look at your chest, make sure the witty phrase is proportionately short. Otherwise, let us take our time and "read".

Here's an idea: "Smile, you're on nipple cam." I'd even allow "Sexy" if it were written small enough. "Sexy" becomes witty if it's so small that you need to bend forward to read it. Or how about one of those 3-D pictures that forces people to stare at your chest for five minutes before finally yelling, "Hey, I can see the space ship!" You might even try tattooing the message right in the middle of your cleavage. That's the goal, anyway, right? Catching guys in the act? A simple "gotcha!" would work.

Name an Ass After Someone

Maybe we can hook up the chicks who wear words across their asses with the "name a star" folks. Rename it the International Ass Registry and let people name an ass after someone! The chick can get free pants, all she needs to do is sign up to receive occasional assvertising. I'd love to see my name (first and last, of course) on some random chick's ass. Think of the money that could be made here. The ass-namer wouldn't even be allowed to know on whose ass their name appeared. (Unless you pay for a celebrity.) The International Ass Registry could send each ass-namer a photo of the girl's ass, along with viewing coordinates. But the coordinates would be so vague, that you'd have to pay for the special "Find Your Ass" service. Maybe the ass could have a GPS chip, so you could track your ass on the web. Ok, maybe not that last one, for safety reasons, but what about an ass cam? Let the ass-namer see where his or her ass has gone by watching a live feed from the ass cam.

Did you have an opinion on this? Then post a comment.

Back to: home culture bashing