For the love of God! (orThis is bling, bitches!)

What to do when you have the skull of an 18th century man, too much money* and no taste?  Duh.  Make a platinum replica of the skull(except for the teeth; they were moved from the real skull to the platinum skull), add 8,601 diamonds to it and call it art. Then, turn around and sell it to some suckers for $100 million dollars (what the fuck?).

“For the Love of God” is the actual title of the piece. The artist, Damien Hirst, comments on his recent work:

“I hope it makes the people who see it feel good, that it’s uplifting, that it takes your breath away,” he said.

“It works much better than I imagined. I was slightly worried that we’d end up with an Ali G ring. You just want it to be flawless, like a diamond is a flawless.

He is also the creator of these fine works of salesmanship art:

“Death Explained” (This shark, cut in half, sold for $20,000,000):

“The Tranquility of Solitude” (This collection of three crucified sheep went for $12,000,000):

“Saint Sebastian, Exquisite Pain” (George Michael(surprised?) paid $7,000,000 for this arrow pierced calf in formaldehyde):

Another delicious quote from the artist:

He rejected suggestions that his works were more a standing joke against the art establishment than real works of art.

But when asked at the time of the exhibition what his next project would be he immediately replied: “Two diamond skeletons shagging — no just kidding.”

Priceless!

*I can’t believe I wrote that.  My socialist slip is showing.

Because I’m all about the music (in black and white)

 

Signs of the time (or how I fit right in)

On my way to take pictures of the after-flip, I snapped these two pics of signs I saw along the way. God I live in a tacky, stupid town.

What? No phone number? That means I have to knock on your scary door to ask about your used wedding gowns (I’m assuming we’re talking about gowns from marriage four, five and six).  But 15 bucks is almost too good of a bargain to pass up. Maybe I’ll stop by tomorrow.

I actually stopped at this sale (the sign got me curious). Odd would be a good description. After looking at her wares, I so wanted to yell at the woman “It’s called garbage! You’re supposed to throw it away!”.  What a bunch of loosers.

My hero

You can’t help but love this story:  Centenarian celebrates her birthday by, ahem, smoking. 

DEFIANT smoker Winnie Langley celebrates reaching 100 yesterday — by lighting her 170,000th cigarette from a candle on her birthday cake.

She started having a puff an incredible 93 years ago aged seven — just after the First World War broke out in June 1914. She has got through five a day ever since.

Kids, please don’t take this as an endorsement for smoking. Remember, you could end up like this guy.

(h/t Fox News)

The end of the end is near

Ok foks, what you’ve all been waiting for: The Finished Product (for any new readers here, I’m talking about my latest project). I’m about sick of being at the site myself even though it has only been a month and a half. I’ve cleaned up enough dog hair mixed with frying grease and scrubbed enough loogeys and boogers off the wall to last a lifetime. That said, I’m very happy with the results. It’s such a nice little house. I would love for the former owners(losers) to come back so I could show them what a great house they could’ve had.

Here are the before and after pics (click to enlarge):

The front. Not much to do here except rip out those bushes and awnings. I powerwashed the vinyl siding (I love to powerwash!) and did some minimal landscaping.

   

One shot of the living room. Floors refinished throughout, wall repair, paint.
   

Another shot of the living room:
   

By far the biggest changes were in the kitchen. New laminate flooring, cabinets, countertops, microvent, paint and wallpaper.
   

Another shot of the kitchen. Added the chair rail and the faux wainscot wallpaper.
   

The master bedroom. By far, the stinkiest of the rooms in the beginning. The dark stain on the floor was the only one that floor sander guy couldn’t get out. But I dont consider it a a flaw; I call it character(whatever works).
   

The back of the house. Nothing special here besides general clean up (and more powerwashing).
   

I still have a few minor things to finish but I should be all done by the end of this week.  Here’s hoping other people will like it as much as I do.

Karaoke Heaven and Hell (Part III, Incest is best)

Another Karaoke favorite of mine, although I thought the duet was strange. Here is Frank and Nancy:

And the G version here, by The Lennon Sisters (notice they replaced “a drink or two” with of “a dance or two”; talk about no fun)

And the R version here with Robbie (sigh) and Nicole:

Here’s my library card (because I’m checking you out)

I do so love ogling men.  Sometimes I get away with it, sometimes not.  Today, not.  Hot shirtless neighbor guy was mowing his lawn.  I tried to be nonchalant about the looking.  The look I attempted was “hey, I’m looking around randomly in your general direction, admiring your hostas and the paint color of your shutters”.  It didn’t work.  It seems I crossed that fine line.  The look I got back was “hey faggot, what are you looking at?”.  Not exactly what I was going for.  Oh well, practice makes perfect.

Caption this, bitches (#7)

This week’s photo :

And its decidedly pedestrian caption:

Swiss Alpine wrestler Joerg Abderhalden (R) fights with Stefan Fausch during the Federal Alpine Wrestling Festival (Eidgenoessisches Schwing- und Aelplerfest) in Aarau August 26, 2007. Joerg Abderhalden won the competition. Swiss Alpine wrestling, called ‘Schwingen’, is the oldest sport in Switzerland. REUTERS/Christian Hartmann (SWITZERLAND)

Schwingen?  Pfft.  There might be some schwingen going on here but enough about me.   Keep it professional bitches and give me the real story.

(And remember, only girly men don’t like captioning)

Last week’s photo:

 

And the winner is…

Jamie:

“The Verizon Network Takes A Vacation”

Bravo!

the fine print: I will be the sole judge of the winner. The winner will be announced at approximately this same time next week. The winner gets absolutely nothing except for the fame of me pronouncing you the winner. If you don’t like my choice of the winner, go fuck yourself.

Oh look! Fluffy made a comma!

 

For those of you who thought the cat box cake wasn’t gross enough, I bring you this madness:

(click to enlarge)

 

I love my cats a lot but, I’m sorry, if you start spelling things with their poop, you’ve crossed a line that even I can’t understand (and that’s saying something).

The light of my life (in memoriam)

My lighter just died.  So pissing (as I frantically go searching for those casino matches that I got from my last trip) and yet sad.  Greenie has been with me for over three months now.  He lit my happy cigs (after winning that jackpot); he lit my sad cigs (after leaving the casino in the hole); he was there when I was working and smoking, driving and smoking and blogging and smoking.

He wasn’t your usual lighter.  You know the ones.  You have them for a few weeks and then casually leave them at a bar or a friend’s house, never to be seen again (although I’ve fostered a few of those left behinds).  No, not Greenie. He was always there for me.  He never once fell down in the crack between my carseats.  I could always find him.

Greenie, you served me well and you will be missed.

Ah, what the hell, since I’m at it: