Three Bands Better off with their Lead Singer Dead (An Accusation)

Three Bands Better off with their Lead Singer Dead

The death of the lead singer usually spells the end of the band. Think INXS without Michael Hutchence, Lynyrd Skynyrd without Ronnie Van Sant, or the Crickets without Buddy Holly. But for these bands, death was only the beginning.

Now I'm not saying that any of these bands had anything to do with their lead singer's demise, but this sure does establish a credible motive. If I was Morris Day, I'd be shaking in my shoes right now.

 

My fine, fine shoes.

3. AC/DC-

Hard-drinking Bon Scott wasn't the first musician to die from choking on his vomit, but he does get the award for coolest official coroner report ("Death by misadventure"). Why those words didn't become a track on the next AC/DC album we'll never know.

This is totally going on my tombstone.

Prior to 1980 when Bon Scott died in the back of a Renault (the least Rock n Roll car in history), AC/DC's top selling album reached only number 17 in the charts. Though they did sell respectfully and tour internationally, the band had never experienced the type of mega-stardom that prompts people to name their children 'Blanket' or 'Apple'. Enter Brian Johnson.

Pictured: The car that has blocked more cock than Portia DeRossi.

Brian joined the band just in time to record Back in Black, an album that sold 50 million freaking copies; that's second only to Michael Jackson's Thriller. They would follow that up with more hits and resurgences than Evander Holyfield, and were ultimately inducted into the Rock n' Roll Hall of Fame in 2003. Even today, AC/DC remains one of the most popular bands of all time.

Would AC/DC have reached that kind of commercial success with Bon Scott? That's for the courts to decide.   

Suspicion level: 6

2. The DOORS-

The Doors, sans lead singer/lizard deity Jim Morrison, recently toured the United States. Exactly three people attended these shows and one of those was Ray Manzarek's optometrist. The other two were convinced Jim was still alive. They were disappointed. Horribly, horribly disappointed.

Yet despite the fact that the Doors couldn't sell out the waiting room of a dentist's office, they continue to sell albums. As in millions of them. As in much, much more than when Jim was alive and Ray is no longer getting sloppy second groupie bootie.

 That’s right, this guy is getting more than you.

In case you're counting, that's two motives. Add to that Jim's death under mysterious circumstances in Paris, and you've got yourself a bonafide murder investigation. Hell, we had less evidence when we bombed the crap out of Iraq in search of weapons of mass destruction. Somebody at least bring this guy in for questioning.

Suspicion level: 7.5

1. Mother Love Bone-

If your immediate response to hearing this band's name was 'who?', congratulations and welcome to the 99%. For the 1% that screamed 'Andrew Woooooooood!,' it's time to put away your flannel shirts and cut off your pony-tail. Grunge is dead and it's not coming back

Andrew Wood is considered one of the pioneers of the Seattle grunge movement. Of course back in 1988, he was just a hippie with a guitar and a nasty habit heroin habit. He stuck around long enough to form Mother Love Bone, release a 6-song EP and the album Apple, none of which anyone would have heard of had he not died of an overdose in 1990.

Enter Eddie Vedder. Pearl Jam manages to transcend the Seattle scene, along with Nirvana, achieving international pop success. Flannel shirts are eventually relegated to lumberjacks in the Pacific Northwest, but Pearl Jam continues to tour. And the remaining members of Mother Love Bone weren't the only ones to profit off Wood's success. Chris Cornell of Soundgarden, Temple of the Dog, Candlebox, and Alice in Chains all released tribute singles and albums dedicated or inspired by Wood to commercial success. There's even been a film chronicling Wood's short life.

Multiple indictments pending.

 Or maybe it was the shirt that did him in. You can't tell me that thing doesn't look sinister as hell.

Suspicion Level: 9



Five Reasons That Prove Once and For All that Mr. Rogers Was Gangster

It's a debate as old as time. Was Mr. Rogers gangster? And, if so, how much? I have poured through countless archives (i.e., Wikipedia) and am happy to conclusively settle this argument once and for all. I present to you "Five Reasons That Prove Once and for all that Mr. Rogers was Gangster:"

1. He drove an Impala his entire life. You know who else drove an Impala? Ice-Cube, that's who. 

"I think I made the wrong turn for Make Believe Land."

2. He could break-dance better than Ice T in Breakin 2: The Electric Boogloo. And more importantly, he never dressed like this:

Here he is, throwing down on his show.

3. He wrote his own music and played his own instruments. If you disqualify two turntables and a microphone as legitimate instruments, that leaves only about two rappers who can hold their own to Mister Rogers. And one of those is, sadly, Flava Flav.

A second after this picture was snapped, he smashed his guitar on the stage, threw a gang sign, and shouted, "Rogers out!"

4. His 'posse' included Yo-Yo Ma and Koko the Gorilla. So yeah, he had street cred with other musicians and more muscles at his back than Vince McMahon.

Don't even think about making fun of his sweater!

5. When his beloved Impala got jacked, he put word on the street what happened and it was returned two days later with a note of apology. Not since Wayne Brady on the Dave Chapelle Show has a gangster commanded such respect.

This one's for you, Mister R!

I would've poured a 40, but Mister Rogers would not have approved. 

Top 5 Pieces of Art Made from Bodily Fluids

Top 5 Pieces of Art Made from Bodily Fluids

Great artists pour their blood, sweat and tears into their work. And it shows. Michelangelo lost his eyesight for the Sistine Chapel. Van Gogh gave up an ear. And then there are these guys, who, while lacking the work ethic, drive, and talent as those other artists, said 'Wait a minute guys, what about all those other fun bodily fluids?' And that's how we ended up with these.

5. Boogers

Who among us hasn't left a miniature abstract booger artwork on the wall of a rest stop bathroom? These tiny, anonymous works of art serve to remind us of the futility of the human condition, the temporalness of life, and of course the laziness of the bathroom attendant. Restock the damn tissue holder, man!

Most of us leave our smeared signature and walk away happily, knowing we ruined someone's afternoon, never to think about 'Les Booger in Green' again. Enter James Ford, creator of the 'Bogey Ball'.

This is exactly what you think it is.

James apparently felt that the genius of his idea was enough to impress the adoring public. There was no attempt at sculpting his booger ball into, say a portrait of Humphrey Bogart ('Bogey in Boogies') or to apply his boogers to famous artworks for satirical effects ('Mona Lisa with Booger Mustache'), James just said, 'Yeah, but mine is bigger and here it fucking is.' At least our next effort made somewhat of an effort.

4. Blood

Most of us donate blood for the greater good, knowing that we're helping some poor soul in need. Marc Quinn thought, 'But how can I profit from this?' And profit he did, to close to $2 million dollars for a frozen sculpture of his head cast from his blood.

Mad props to Marc for giving us something beyond a wad of boogers, but he loses points on having an artwork that has to be stored in the freezer in between the Hungry Man dinner from 1994 that you swear you'll eat someday and the Thanksgiving turkey.

If you put your ear close to his head, you can almost hear it say, 'Moooooooonnnnnnnneeeeeyy.'

3. Poop

With a name like Piero Manzoni there simply weren't a lot of career choices for him--famous chef, musketeer, or artist. That's it. And that is how the world lost a great cook and ended up with 90 cans of human shit. Piero's most famous piece is titled, 'Merda d'artista' which sounds like something we'd gladly hang over our dining room table until we learn that it translates to 'Artist's Shit.' Okay, so he goes for the direct approach in titling his work. Surely, he didn't actually can his...

Hide every damn can-opener in the house.

Oh wait, that's exactly what he did. Hey, it's still better than most of the crap that gets donated during every canned food drive.

2. Pubic Hairs

Okay, okay, astute reader, pubes are not a bodily fluid, but there are so many reasons to love Fox Bronte and his work, I couldn't help myself:

• He was discovered on YouTube alongside that Friday girl and the dude who who shart himself while bungee jumping
• He often uses his penis as a paint brush which is something every guy who's been alone with a canvas and a tube of paint has at least thought about.
• And finally, he made this:

Baby, baby, ba---cough, cough, hack. Sorry, I got something stuck in my throat.

In case you're confused, that's a portrait of Justin Bieber. Made from public hair. And not all of it is his.

If there's message in there beyond Justin Bieber sucks, I don't want to hear about it.

1. Semen

Topping this list is one of the leading artists of the 20th century. He's mentioned in the same breath as Picasso and Dali, which isn't terrible company to keep, unless the category is 'Dead White Guys'. And even if you can't name anything he painted, odds are you've heard the name Marcel Duchamp. His work was ground-breaking, pioneering, and marked a break-away from the previous, more rigid styles in existence at the time. He was an artistic genius in every sense of the word.

That's why it's comforting to know that even geniuses like to take breaks from tortured fits of creation, to rub one out every now and again. Enter 'Paysage fautif'

What you're looking at is Monseiur Duchamp's semen squeezed out on a pair of book ends with some black silk thrown in there because apparently Duchamp bought his sheets at the same store as Hugh Hefner. This lovely creation was a gift for his girlfriend at the time and his baby momma.

And my wife complained when I bought her a vacuum for her birthday.

"I didn't realize how awesome this thing is. I'm...I'm sorry," said no woman, ever.

The Hunger Games- Wasserman Style

I should probably intervene but I couldn't resist this trendy feet photo with my kids killing themselves in the background. Other people get feet pics with sandy white beaches and calm, azure waters. I get the elementary equivalent of the Hunger Games.

Spinning

What's more fun than spinning in circles until you puke? Watching a 2-year old spin in circles.

Meet Jonah. My two year old. Here he is spinning in circles. He does this a lot. I don't know why, but it looks like a lot of fun.

YouTube Video

The video sadly ends after a full minute of spinning, but only because his mother came home and he feels the need to bear hug anyone who walks through our door. You've been warned.

And for some reason I sound like I've had about eight valium on here which couldn't be further from the truth. It couldn't have been more than six.

Five Songs That Aren't About What You Think

Five Songs That Aren't About What You Think

In literature class, book clubs, and porn conventions, you'll hear the word 'intent' mentioned over and over again. What did the author intend the ending/symbolism/awkward picture on the back cover to mean? What did the director intend when he let his dog run loose on the porn set? It was a dog, right? Not just some coked out actor in a dog suit? I wasn't really paying attention to that part.

Anywho, nine times out of ten we completely miss the author's intent. And whose fault is it? The fucking author that's who. It's their job to write something that can stand on its own. After all, the writer can't visit every single readers' house and explain what the symbolism of the train and the dark tunnel really mean (Isn't it obvious? Socialism, duh.).

Pictured Above: Not my penis.

But that one time out of ten, the author does their job perfectly and we still get it wrong. Horribly, horribly wrong. Like these songs which we've been cheerfully humming and butchering for years without really understanding what we're singing.

5. Just Give Me a Reason (Pink)
What you're sure it's about: A couple that has grown apart.
But really, it's about: Female insecurity. That's right, Pink, the bastion of female toughness and independence has written the anthem for insecure, clingy women everywhere. Bear with me. The song is sung in turns.

First, the female speaker:

Right from the start
You were a thief
You stole my heart
And I your willing victim
I let you see the parts of me
That weren't all that pretty
And with every touch you fixed them

Gloria Steinem is probably rolling over in her grave right now (I'm just assuming she's dead. I guess I could check Wikipedia but I'm not feeling researchy). The woman identifies herself immediately as a victim, as having been seduced, and as having needed a man to 'fix' her. And how does he fix her? By making her 'pretty'. Girl power!

"I love being the weaker sex!"

Now you've been talking in your sleep, oh, oh
Things you never say to me, oh, oh
Tell me that you've had enough
Of our love, our love

Now that we've established our stereotypical gender roles, we get right down to the accusations and insecurity. What's got Pink all shaken up and feeling lost? The fact that her man is talking in his sleep and she doesn't like what she's hearing. My wife wakes up pissed at me all the time for stuff I do in my sleep--snore, steal her pillows, blanket, panties, etc. All justifiable. But for mumbling incoherent shit while I'm having that recurring dream about living inside a kangaroo's pouch? Not once.

Just give me a reason
Just a little bit's enough
Just a second we're not broken just bent
And we can learn to love again
It's in the stars
It's been written in the scars on our hearts
We're not broken just bent
And we can learn to love again

Now we go from anger to pleading. In Pink's mind, the relationship is doomed and all because her man uttered 'Rosebud' in his sleep. Quite frankly, he's lucky she didn't Bobbett his nuts off.

I'm sorry I don't understand
Where all of this is coming from
I thought that we were fine
(Oh, we had everything)
Your head is running wild again
My dear we still have everythin'
And it's all in your mind
(Yeah, but this is happenin')

Enter our hero (i.e., the one who is not batshit crazy). The guy has just woken up. He hasn't even had time to drain the lizard, let alone unstick his eye boogers and he's already getting hit with accusations. In this stanza, we learn that not only does this poor sap have the patience of Job as he tries to reassure her, but that this has happened before ("Your head is running wild again"). I should also point out that, while he remained quiet throughout Pink's musical mood swing, she just can't resist interjecting. I could make some comment about this one being a spot on female trait, but I won't because I know my wife occasionally reads this blog.

You've been havin' real bad dreams, oh, oh
Used to lie so close to me, oh, oh
There's nothing more than empty sheets
Between our love, our love
Oh, our love, our love

Preach on, dude! Put the blame where it belongs. And protect your nutsack.

I'll spare you the rest of the song. They go back and forth. Nothing gets solved, but at the end, they're harmonizing together. And what are they harmonizing? Pink's original manifesto on insecurity. Proof positive that a guy will acquiesce and agree with a woman on just about anything if it will get him 1) laid, 2) fed, or 3) to the bathroom quicker.

Except me, honey, I'm evolved.


4. Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds (The Beatles)
What you're sure it's about: LSD. Duh. Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds stands for LSD. Plus the lyrics paint a surreal vision (with plasticine trees and marmalade skies no less), that echo what someone dosed up might see. And it's also the name of a stoner I knew in high school so don't try to tell me otherwise.

But really it's about: Except that it's not, you jaded and cynical human being. It's about a child's painting. Specifically a drawing Julian Lennon, John's son did for an elementary school friend.

Want to know what would make this drawing better? Acid, lots of acid.

The drawing, which featured bright stars in the sky (the diamonds) was titled, you guessed it 'Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds'. Isn't that nice? Of course the madness that follows the original song inspiration is probably the result of being locked in a closet for the weekend with Timothy Leary and a new batch he just whipped up, but let's just dwell on the child part.

3. 1999 (Prince)
What you're sure it's about: Partying! Specifically, a celebration of a new millennium. And it's become the anthem for every New Year's Celebration since. At least one of you reading this, lost their virginity to this song. I hope I'm not ruining any cherished memories here.

But really it's about: The Apocalypse. War. Nuclear Bombs. End of days. No, seriously.

In fact, it's not even subtle.

I was dreamin when I wrote this
Forgive me if it goes astray
But when I woke up this mornin
Coulda sworn it was judgment day
The sky was all purple,
There were people runnin everywhere
Tryin 2 run from the destruction,
U know I didn't even care

Picture Prince, standing all calm and Prince-like while people are losing their shit around him. The world's ending and he could give a toss. He's going to party until the end of time (which apparently is about two minutes from now). But that's just the opening dream-sequence to set the mood, right?

Uh, no.

But life is just a party, and parties werent meant 2 last
War is all around us, my mind says prepare 2 fight
So if I gotta die Im gonna listen 2 my body tonight

Not direct enough for you?
Yeah, everybodys got a bomb,
We could all die any day
But before I'll let that happen,
Ill dance my life away

We get it Prince, we get it.

It's easy to get lost in the upbeat riffs and the repeated use of the word 'Party!'. Our brains are like Ogre from  Revenge of the Nerds that way. We hear someone yell, 'Party!' (or 'Nerds') and we just up and lose our shit.  Plus who hasn't tried to pick up a woman by telling her you've got a lion in your pocket and baby, it's ready to roar?

Pictured Above: Also not my penis.

2. Sitting on the Dock of the Bay (Otis Redding)
What you're sure it's about: A man taking a reflective moment to enjoy the beauty of nature, specifically the tranquility of the water.

But really it's about: Loneliness and the futility of existence.

The song follows someone who has moved 2000 miles from his home to escape his problems only to find that nothing has changed, except now he's completely alone. He reacts to this by planting his ass near the water and dwelling on the sheer futility of existence.

Once again, there's no subtlety here:

I left my home in Georgia
Headed for the Frisco bay
'Cos I've had nothing to live for
And look like nothing's gonna come my way
Still not with me?

Look like nothing's gonna change
Everything still remains the same
I can't do what ten people tell me to do
So I guess I'll remain the same, listen

Deleted Lyrics: Sun's going down on the ocean/ gosh, this arsenic tastes funny.

The problem is that every time we hear this song we have an icy drink in our hand topped with a complicated assortment of fruit, plastic swords and umbrellas. We're probably staring at the damn ocean, too. Except that we're surrounded by friends or family or that secretary at work who'd do anything for a raise. We're not lonely. We're at the damn beach! And this song comes on and Otis starts whistling and all is right with the world. Except for the poor bastard in the song who, though it's not said, is probably contemplating stuffing his pockets with rocks and going out Virginia Wolfe-style.

1. Please, Please Me (The Beatles)
What you're sure it's about: I don't know, love or something.

There the Fab Four go again, making it as easy as possible for everyone to understand and no one was listening. It's easy to see how this one was misinterpreted as this single comes off their debut album-- you know when they wore natty suits and matching haircuts and it wasn't cool to pick on Ringo yet. The song itself is chirpy, catchy and upbeat. In fact, it's so bubblegum, you probably never even thought about the lyrics. It's short, so I'll give them to you in their entirety:

Last night I said these words to my girl
I know you never even try, girl
Come on, come on, come on, come on
Please, please me, wo yeah, like I please you
You don't need me to show the way, love
Why do I always gave to sat, love
Come on, come on, come on, come on
Please, please me, wo yeah, like I please you
I don't want to sound complaining
but you know there's always rain in my heart
I do all the pleasing with you,
it's so hard to reason with you
wo yeah, why do you make me blue?
Last night I said these words to my girl
I know you never even try, girl
Come on, come on, come on, come on
Please, please me, wo yeah, like I please you
wo yeah, like I please you
wo yeah, like I please you

But really it's about: You know! You're probably slapping your head right now (the one on your shoulders) for missing this one. I mean, who hasn't begged their significant other to please, please them, just not quite so eloquently as, "Why do you make me blue?" Still, it does make you appreciate Paul McCartney even more--the guy was a giver in every sense of the word. He just never got it back.

Don't do it, Ringo! I'll blow you.

Makes you want to re-listen to that Barry Mannilow Greatest Hits Album we all know you have under your bed a little more closely, doesn't it? In fact, the only song that's actually exactly about what you think is Jimmy Buffett's Why Don't We Get Drunk and Screw, which of course is a deconstructive view of Marxist economics in post-cold war Russia.

I'm just kidding. It's about boning. Boning Marxists.

After we bone, let's go get a cheeseburger in paradise.

Did I mention that I write books? Here's my new one: Bud the Crud and the Vampire-Werewolf Wars

Top Five Most Unsettling Things Adults Have Done With Children's Toys

Top Five Most Unsettling Things Adults Have Done With Children's Toys

Children's toys are fun. Adult toys are even more fun, but they lack the innocence and idiocy that makes Toys R Us so fucking impossible to leave. In the right tiny hands, a small plastic action figure or doll can become a living breathing fairy, a superhero, or a child's best friend (just me?). In the wrong hands, however, they can become the stuff of nightmares. We're talking horrors that would make Cthulu scream 'My eyes! My eyes!' (all 24 of them) and crawl his way back into his hell dimension just to calm the fuck down.  Unsettling nightmares just like these...

5. Over-exuberance Towards Small Pink Horses (Brony's)

Hug it all you want. It can't hug you back.

I know, I know. Including these guys is so obvious, it's almost insulting. Of course they're unsettling. The juxtaposition of adult males with unicorns and a girl's toy is a recipe for creep (or an annual NAMBLA meeting). But how could I not include them? Somewhere, there's an ordinance that says that anytime you create an internet list of unsettling people, Bronies shall appear on it. And if there isn't, I'm sure there soon will be. These guys should have their own watch-list because, seriously, if you have a daughter (or horse), would you want to live near one of them?

I heard a radio interview with the organizer for one of the many conventions (Yes, they happen frequently and in many places. Probably near you. Probably right now. How's that for a morning dose of 'ewwwwwww!'?). I was expecting a deranged lunatic frothing at the mouth like a Plushy let loose in the stuffing machine at Build-a-Bear, but he wasn't. He was a Masters Degree student who spoke cogently and articulately about his fandom. And he was well-rounded with other interests in sports, literature, and of course other cartoons. And you think that might have done a little to reassure me about these guys, but it didn't. In fact, it had the opposite effect.

You know who else was smart, well-spoken, and passionate about his interests? Hannibal Lechter, that's who. And he was the scariest fucking psycho in a movie wall-papered with lunatics. Lock me away with Migs anyday. Just not Hannibal. And fuck, just not a Brony.

4. Hoarding (The Beanie Baby Dad)If you're old enough to use the internet without adult supervision (did you know there's a lot of porn out there? I wish someone had told me sooner.), then odds are you remember beanie babies.

The hat does not make this thing any more fun.

Beanie babies are quite possibly the blandest piece of crap ever manufactured. It's a fucking bean bag with a disinterested animal's face on it. What does a kid do with a beanie baby after he's hurled it at his sister's head? Abso-fucking-lutely nothing.

And there's a reason for that. It was marketed to adults. TY, the geniuses behind this abomination, took one look at the Franklin Mint and thought, you know what would make collecting limited edition plates more fun...if they weren't plates. And also they had a lot of cloth and beans lying around. The rest is history.

Beanie babies were released in "limited quantities" (i.e., act now or you'll be the only douche on your street without Fuzzy the Spitting Llama). They even restricted how many you could buy at a time. And for a while, the formula worked. People just ate this shit up and they sold for outrageous amounts. TY even made a buttload of cash (i.e., more than an armload, less than a colon-fill) selling cases to protect the tags on their stuffed animals. Let me say that again. They sold cases to protect the tags. You know, the first thing a kid (or sane person) rips off something when they first buy it. Shit, even a damn FBI warning isn't enough to stop people ripping the tags off mattresses. But then the FBI never reckoned with the passion of beanie baby collectors.

But eventually, the demand bottomed-- TY got greedy and over-saturated the market and people got predictably bored with the product. I mean how many fucking iterations of a platypus does any adult really need?

Just one. This guy. His name is Perry and he's awesome.

The end-result--100,000 Ebay auctions for beanie babies and two people bidding. But no harm, no foul. Fads come and go. People get caught up in stupid shit all the time, right?

This explains Menudo. But not the geri-curls.

I mean, it's not like anyone blew their life-savings and children's future on this stuff.

Meet Chris Robinson. He blew his children's future and life-savings on this stuff.

In this wonderful video created by one of Chris's children (who's not bitter at all, by the way), he documents his dad's descent into beanie-filled madness and how his father did his damndest to take everyone down with them.

I could point out the forced daily trips to every toy story in a hundred-mile radius of the family (henceforth known as the Trail of Tears) just so dad could pick up multiple copies of Clancy the Cow (special double-udder collectible). I could point out the mother recalling her husband's hobby through clenched teeth or the vague insinuation that it was all little Chris Jr.s fault for wanting one when he was six in the first place. But why not let the video just speak for itself? Watch the whole thing. I guarantee you'll feel a lot better about your life-choices afterwards. 

http://www.youtube.com/embed/PgDsyj5eLmo

The video does manage to end on a positive note. Chris is hopeful that in another 20 years the market will rebound and Beanies will become collectible again. Now that, my friend, is a future I don't want to live in.


3. Too Much Time on One's Hands (Re-born Dolls)

As if dolls weren't creepy enough, these doll creators thought, fuck I can do better than that. These "artists" (the quotes are mine), take disembodied doll limbs and faces, then meticulously add lifelike hair and paint, until the result looks something like this.

Fuck. Just fuck. Better get the eyeball bleach.

They even add weight to the damn things so they have the right feel of a baby. If you're like me, you're picturing an artist's workshop with a giant cartoon-like scale with a baby on one side and one of those plastic nightmares in the other. The real baby is not pleased.

Not creepy enough for you? The most popular reason people order these custom dolls? To create a lifelike representation of a dead child.

Yeah, so they're possessed too.


2. Taking Dress-Up Way Too Far (Living Barbie Doll)
A lot has been discussed about Barbie and her unrealistic proportions. Someone even went so far as to PhotoShop models into Barbie-like proportions. The result, apart from being just fucking awesome and hot, was a woman who couldn't support the weight of her own boobs. I don't have a problem with this.
What does give me the heebies, is this girl.

She has the same soulless, dead eyes as my wife before 9am.

Her name is  Valeria Lukyanova and she's Ukranian which sorta helps to explain what you're looking at, but in no way justifies it. She's been called a 'living Barbie doll girl' because, I don't know, she's got big boobs and blonde hair and tiny waist or something like that. To be honest, I didn't read the full article. I saw her picture and it reminded me of this singer I used to have the hots for so I Googled her. She's gained a lot of weight since and the only singing she does in a church choir. A small part of me died today and to be honest, who really gives two fucks about Valeria She has issues and dead eyes and a dad that probably never hugged her enough. Go strip or something. This hobby of yours is just plain weird.

1. Pornography (Lego Nude Sculptures)
If you've ever Googled 'Lego Nudes'(and I'm sure if you're reading this article, you have not only Googled it, you've put it in your saved searches), then you've probably been introduced to the works of Pierrick and his photographer Jean-Yves Lemoigne. Just in case you hadn't, here's a sampling:

No, you're not looking at pixilated porn from 1995. That's a naked woman bent over on a bed in a position that can only mean one of two things: 1) She's waiting for the plumber to finish up in the bathroom so she can pay off her bill the hard way or 2) She's doing yoga and her instructor taught her how to do it wrong. Terribly, terribly, wrong.

Are you as turned on as I am right now? Well, before you go shoving your dingus in that comely woman, think again. She's made out of the same material that can split your foot open by stepping on it in the middle of the night- Legos.

Let me say that again. This life-sized sex doll was built out of plastic Lego bricks. The same shit you built a kick-ass fort out of in fourth grade before your damn little sister knocked it over. And this wasn't made by one pervy creep in his dark basement for his own gawking pleasure. It was made by a professional sculptor and his professional photography buddy. Can you just imagine how this modeling session went?

"That's nice baby, but arch your back a little more. Pierrick, can you make her boobs bigger?"

"I'm running low on red."

"Damn it, man. I can't work like this."

"Hey, what's all this white stuff on her?"

"Nevermind that, you're in my shot."

If you're like me, you probably feeling violated about now. So here's a video of a dog trying to cuddle with a baby to cleanse yourself: http://www.youtube.com/embed/JaZC6fZEon0

Jamie Wasserman strongly believes that size doesn't matter. He's written a short book. You can download it on Amazon, Barnes and Nobles or other book outlets. Look for it in print soon!

http://www.amazon.com/Jamie-Wasserman/e/B003YC8HXI/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_1