Archive for the 'Potpourri' Category

Egotastic! out-boobs itself

Published by Rob on December 19, 2006 in Bitches, Camel Toes, Celebs and Potpourri. 1 Comment

britney.jpgWe love Egotastic! We link to it a lot. It was the first site that showed us Lindsay Lohan’s limo-exiting cooter in all its starving glory (we realize they didn’t break that photo, it just happens to be where I stumbled upon it first). But lately, the site’s Crusade-like passion for showing us every imaginable celebrity nipple is leaving us both impressed and a little nauseated.

Truth be told, nipple slips are yesterday’s news. Unless there are beef curtains involved, it’s hard to bat an eyelash at them (a reality that the site itself happily acknowledges). And this item about Amy Poehler, of all people, sunbathing topless is at least novel.

But what fascinates me about all the T&A&V obsession is how the super-gay arena of celebrity gossiping has disappeared so far down the rabbit hole (so to speak) of obsessive interest in the female body. Which is usually the mark of, well, straight men. (Bear in mind, I know nothing about the editors of Egotastic! or their hole-preferences, I’m just using them as an example.)

Anyway….boobs. They’re crazy.

Oh look, it’s Britney Spears’ nipples…whatever [Egotastic!]
Amy Poehler topless pictures [Egotastic!]

Completely unqualified to write about 9/11

Published by Jordan on September 11, 2006 in News and Potpourri. 3 Comments

Media-Hi SunriseI’m so grateful that when I’m asked to reflect upon where I was when 9/11 happened it wasn’t something terribly embarrassing, like in the reeds surrounding The Fenway with my bare feet in a pile of something “just awful but totally worth it for the beejay.” In fact, I was just exiting Roman Civilization 201 a bit early, and am ashamed to admit that I stopped by the poster sale in front of the student union (I just had to have some Belushi on my wall) and ate a chicken salad wrap in the dining hall before deciding to find out what all the hubbub was about. The common-area television set came into focus just as the first tower collapsed, and I bit into my tongue piercing, cracking a tooth in half. Just another one of the day’s tragedies.

I haven’t really read the news today, so I am undoubtedly unintentionally plagiarizing someone more intelligent than I when I comment on the thing I’m having the most difficult time wrapping my brain around: How could any of the souls living on that day possibly comprehend the unholy shit storm that would unfold in the subsequent half decade as a result of that day’s events? I’m trying to remember back to that day and recall what I imagined was to come. It was before I knew words like “al Qaeda,” “burqa,” and “Wolfowitz.” Hell, it was even before most of us had heard of an MP3 player, much less one called the iPod, which wouldn’t exist for another month. It’s funny how something as damn certain as chronology even seems to lack coherence under the shadow of something so much more daunting.

It’s strange. I’ve been inoculated by the frequency with which we see images of 9/11. If I want to try to recreate the profoundness of that day (emphasis on try), I can find the footage online with a few keystrokes, which seems cheap. Today, I would have felt nothing watching the rebroadcasted coverage on CNN.com – that is, if today weren’t so goddamned similar to the same day five years ago. Something about the smell of the leaves in the air, or the breeze through my window this morning pummeled me with a sense of nostalgia bookmarked by two planes flying into two tall buildings. And then, while walking towards Starbucks this morning, I was fixated on the realization that five years ago, 2973 other people walked to work thinking, “What a gorgeous fucking day.”

Aw shoot. I really had other intentions when starting this post. It was going to be funny, making a light-hearted-yet-appropriate reference to 9/11 in typical PEN15 fashion. I was going to write a list of all the things I wish I had done in the five years since, and one of the items was going to be, hilariously, “Lose virginity,” possibly referring to it as a “man cherry,” borrowing from Rob. But you wouldn’t think that was as funny as I did for some reason. Especially now, when all you can think is, “He should really stick to writing about assfucking and crystal meth.”

Tomorrow, maybe.

Newark ladies take back the night

Published by Rob on August 19, 2006 in Bitches, News and Potpourri. 1 Comment

200608191010 We’ve been known to make the occasional lesbian joke from time to time, but I’m starting to think it’s just because we’re jealous. Could you imagine a gaggle of gay men kicking this much ass?

A foolish DVD bootlegger hit on one of a group of bridge-and-tunnel (Newark, to be exact) lesbians outside the IFC Center in the West Village, causing the other six ladies to turn feral and attack, as the poor folks coming out of the late showing of Factotum started regurgitating their artisanal cheese plates in shock.

Anthropologists say that a “perfect storm” of lesbianism and a New Jersey environment can cause normally docile people to attack when cornered. We just love that the Daily News described the ladies as “petite but ornery.”

Girls gone wilding [NY Daily News]

Lesbian planet discovered

Published by Rob on August 16, 2006 in News and Potpourri. 0 Comments

200608162101 Science geeks everywhere creamed their jockey shorts this week when newly determined parameters for what constitutes a planet indicated that Planet Xena is a part of our solar system.

Sources reveal that Xena’s orbit often brings it tantalizingly close to its only moon, Gabrielle. And also to Home Depot.

Scientists say that Xena makes a generally peaceful neighbor to planets Pluto and Charon, but has expressed interest in adopting younger planets from far-away galaxies. Life forms visiting from other planets have found Xena inhabitable for only a short while, as its only naturally occurring food source is tofu. Xena considers its status as a legally recognized planet to be a hard-won accomplishment, and believes it is entitled to the same rights and privileges as other planets.

Pluto is safe as astronomers define planet size [Reuters]

We love our readers!

Published by Rob on August 3, 2006 in Club News and Potpourri. 2 Comments

Sear But, in all honesty, some of you are complete lunatics. Every once in a while, a filthy, depraved site like ours has to step back and examine the search terms that draw web surfers into our realm. And, frankly, we don’t always like what we see.

Here’s a list of recent searches as reported early this morning. You’ll notice at the top of the list: “Mel Gibson is right about the Jews,” which generates a link to my sarcastically titled post, “The Jews made Mel drink and drive.”

Okay, so you’re disturbed. Now, let your eyes wander down the list - but not all the way down. “Michelle Rodriguez pussy” and “Mary-Louise Parker fucked clip weeds” actually seem gentle compared to the fourth item from the bottom: “Elisabeth Hasselbeck sexy breast pics.”

I don’t do this often, but at some point you have to stand up for what you think is right. Anyone who sincerely believes this garbage, this filth, this hate speech - anyone who actually finds Elisabeth Hasselbeck sexy - is respectfully asked not to read this site again. We don’t want your traffic! Come back when you’re looking for naked pictures of Chloe Sevigny.

Of walking oxymorons

Published by Jordan on July 29, 2006 in Potpourri and Rants. 18 Comments

Queen1I know you’ve all been baffled at how The PEN15 Club has seemingly gotten rid of any grammatical errors and confused references in its posts. But now I shall let you in on the secret: I haven’t posted anything in awhile, and Rob has aptly kept the boat afloat. So now that I’m back at the keyboard, you’ll have to excuse us as our collective prose returns to its previous levels.

But tonight, instead of the latest news criticism and Dakota Fanning joke, I’m going to try something a little bit different. I am going to tell you a story. A story about baby dykes and Freddie Mercury. Bear with me. I found it quaint.

This half of the P15 Club is located in Jamaica Plain, which is the bearded clambake capital of Massachusetts. What I mean by that is that there’s a lot of lez to go around. If you’ve never seen a Dunkin Donuts that makes almost its entire profit off of hazelnut ice coffee and cherry pie, you’ve never been to JP.

I was on the subway returning from a film (read: cruising in the Common) and I spotted something that is becoming more and more common in these parts: a baby dyke. You know who I’m talking about. She’s about 5′1“, 150lbs, striped polo shirt tightly tucked into her baggy jeans, buzz-cut hair, and two or three variations of the Livestrong bracelet on her wrists. She wears the smug look of gender superiority on her shiny face, and the tail end of an Ace bandage peeks out through her sleeve.

This particular baby dyke wore a baseball cap with the Queen logo emblazoned on it. Yes, that Queen. The Queen that rocked us, socked us, picked us up and dropped us. On her back was a rolling backpack the size of a mini fridge, but seemingly empty. And to top it off, our baby dyke – let’s call her, ummmm, Lisa – carried a Discman. You remember them, right? And if you’re in a metropolitan area, you still see them sometimes being carried by the ”alternative“ set in some bold act of defiance. No, fucktard. They’re not retro-chic. Get a fucking iPod. Loser.

About four stops into our journey, Lisa took a seat directly across from me, and hoisted the luggage from her back. She gingerly unzipped it and rustled around inside for a moment. Form my vantage point, I could clearly see that there was only one object in the giant backpack, which Lisa soon withdrew from its opening: a huge fucking case of CDs. You know; one of those books - two CDs tall and two wide.

Continue reading ‘Of walking oxymorons’

Breeders gone wild

Published by Rob on July 17, 2006 in Bitches and Potpourri. 14 Comments

200607172057 You know, it’s hard to forgive straight couples. Especially around summertime. They’re always holding hands and pretending to enjoy each other’s company in public. The men look miserable and the women look really desperate to make sure you realize they’re with the men. It annoys me every summer, but eventually I mellow out and get over it. They’re straight couples. They don’t know any better.

But now they’ve gone too far. Shelton and Brandi Koskie are a Wichita, Kansas couple in their mid-’20s. They’ve been married for a few years, and now they feel that the Lord owes them a baby. But dog garnit, copious amounts of routine missionary-position sex just haven’t done the trick.

Thanks to Shelton’s lazy swimmers, the Koskies are forced to resort to In Vitro (to read about why they think they’re too good to adopt, click here). Having just purchased a second home, however, they’re short the $20k they need to pay medical science to cook up a Baby Koskie.

And that’s where you come in. Yes, dear reader, Shelton and Brandi believe that despite all the pre-existing children dying of malnutrition, AIDS and warfare worldwide, it should be your philanthropic prerogative to make a non-tax-deductible donation to help these smug, cornfed yuppies indulge in the ultimate act of vanity: natural procreation. Of course, they’d rather use your money than make any kind of personal sacrifice (a second home!). They both deserve to be bitch-slapped by Angelina Jolie.

Thank God they’re dumb enough to have started a blog. Come on, PEN15 readers! Let’s remind them of all the baby girls abandoned in China because of their gender, or the millions of babies orphaned by AIDS in Africa! Or just make fun of Brandi’s admitted predilection for the Dave Matthews Band.

Baby or Bust [Babyorbust.metaicon.com]

Baby or Bust Blog [Minti]

Puckerin’ Putin blows minds, raspberries

Published by Jordan on July 6, 2006 in News, Politics, Potpourri and Rants. 1 Comment

Vert.Putin.ApI long days when it wasn’t considered strange for the ruler of a country to go up up to a 5-year-old boy, lift his shirt, and kiss him on the stomach in front of thousands of bystanders. I’ll bet you Russian president Vladimir Putin is cursing all of those Catholic Priests that ruined it for everyone else. Okay, it was strange that Putin wanted to crawl across a broken Stoli bottle to get to the boy’s belly… but still, I’m sure his intentions were, uh, normal.

Okay, seriously. Putin. You just don’t do it. Resist the urge, compadre. It doesn’t matter how “innocent,” “defenseless,” and “kitten”-like the child is. You don’t kiss kids on their stomachs if they aren’t yours. Heck, don’t kiss kids period. It doesn’t take a whole lot of self restraint to not crouch over, not lift the child’s shirt up, and not kiss his stomach. Now, I get the social mores in Russia may be a little different and all, but seriously, until that kid is old enough to know you’re a whack job, keep your lips to your vodka bottle, big guy.

And to think! This from the country that bought us TaTu. Figures!

Putin kissed boy ‘like a kitten’ - [CNN]

Dueling Tenors: Rock and Bea do the drug ditty

Published by Jordan on June 26, 2006 in Celebs and Potpourri. 2 Comments

200606261436

This video can’t be embedded in the post, so click here to open it in a new window in YouTube.

When, friends, were we so easily entertained? Were the ’80s so bland that dressing two queens up in evening wear and having them sashay across the stage matching harmonies about doing drugs was considered entertainment? No wonder why drugs were so big.

My favorite part of this little gem, sent in by P15 informant Bill, is the blocking and direction. (Yes, my community theater lingo has stayed with me through the years.) Not only are Bea Arthur and Rock Hudson singing a showtune about drug use, but their only props are cocktails, their costumes are straight off the set of “Auntie Mame,” and the on-camera action is limited to moving from sitting on fancy furniture to standing next to fancy furniture. The entire song is cut to suggest that it took place over the course of a romantic dinner between the two singers. That’s right. Romantic. Bea Arthur. And Rock Hudson. Oh, how naive we were in the 80s.

I only wish they hadn’t cut the last verse. Thank goodness the PEN15 Club has obtained the original lyrics:

Rock:

Remember when a rim job was what you gave a margarita,

and a rusty trombone was just part of the band?

Bea:

And when roast beef curtains were the best meal of your life,

and a pretty pearl necklace was what you gave to your wife?

Rock:

But now you gotta visit

a truck stop to get busy.

Bea:

And wear a pair of jeans

to hide your secret penis.

Both:

Everybody today is turnin’ on!

Except for us. Really.

Bea & Rock Turnin’ On [YouTube]

“Despite his womanly handshake, he can still climb!”

Published by Jordan on May 21, 2006 in Bitches, News, Potpourri and TV. 5 Comments

Thanks to reader Victor who sent this clip in. A newswoman declares that she’ll be speaking to a gentleman that’s climbed Mt. Everest, but wait! Not just any man. In fact, only a partial man… a gay man. And by “gay,” she meant “blind.”

Hey. It’s an easy mistake to make. Gay men are a repressed group of butt sex loving, home decorating, purse carrying, sport hating hedonists. Blind men can’t see. See? Oh yeah, and blind men spend most of their time with a stick in their hands. I could go on.

Really, there’s no excuse for the mistake, but despite the similarities between the two minority groups, there are plenty of other reasonable explanations for why Cynthia Izaguirre from Action 7 News fucked the line up:

  • Ever since last December, every time the word “mountain” is used, it is immediately and unabashedly done so in context of gay sex. Actually, Ang Lee and his gang forever ruined the word as one free of sexual meaning. Like these: plug, beads, bear, Twinkie, rim, fag, and, uh, gay. Cynthia simply couldn’t wrap her brain around the word being associated with something wholesome.
  • She is sitting next to a guy named Craig. And he’s wearing a turquoise tie. You do that and try not to think of fags.
  • Eric, the young man who climbed the mountain, is a gay blind man. And before you tell me that it’s impossible to be gay without being able to see a jaw line, just have a chat with these guys.
  • Cynthia was just thinking how it would be a far more extraordinary feat if a fag climbed Everest. After all, she knows that most gay men just find it easier to stay on the bottom.
  • Cynthia was viewing a satellite feed of the young man before we had a chance to see it. And in his haste to get ready to be on the news that morning, he accidentally put on his Judy Tenuta t-shirt, and mistook his wallet for a red handkerchief.

Gay Mount Everest [YouTube]

Thanks, Vincent