Is it sad to want to spend eternity in a bar? I can’t help but imagine heaven to be a really cool joint where Lester Bangs, Karl Marx and Shakespeare shoot the shit on velvet stools over free beers poured by Ted Danson or Barbara Windsor. This may not be the most thrilling vision of Shangri-La, but it’s more exciting than angels in white robes sitting on fluffy clouds and spinning Joanna Newsome records. Read more »
I like the way drag kings have this shtick where they pretend to be totally over it in a “I know I’m ugly” kind of way, but the second there’s a pretty girl around the whole charade comes tumbling down and she instantly becomes the nervous, horny loser she pretends she’s making fun of.
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Sorry to put a GILF in the DON’Ts but until American Apparel makes socks thin enough for heels we can’t let you jam big fat sweat socks into your shoes. The bunchiness kills it.
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