Archive for the ‘things which must stop’ Category

Things Which Must Stop – The Infomercial Edition

Tuesday, February 16th, 2010

The Hoodie Footie

In the name of all things good and holy, what in the onesie hell is this?! I refuse to believe that any woman can sit at home, see this come on an infomercial and think ‘that’s a good look.’ This has to be a piss take. And yet, look how happy the woman in the pic is to be wearing it. I ain’t mad at ya honey, get your pay cheque. It’s hard out here on these streets and crack prices just keep skyrocketing. Do what you’ve gotta do. Say someone rings your doorbell, do you answer wearing that? Those are some giant balls you have, my friend. This is wrong in more way than I can count. Looking at it makes my head hurt.

The Hug-e-Gram

This just makes me want to punch babies. Wrapping a big bit of coloured styrofoam around yourself to feel like a hug? Never, not even on my darkest, loneliest nights would I ever consider this an option. In the infomercial, it gives the impression that this is something you should send to your significant other, in your absence, instead of say, something a normal person would send – like flowers. Let me tell you something, I wish someone would try to send me this crap. I would wrap that piece of trash around the delivery man’s neck and pull til he got the message. What the hell kinda of gift is that?! You better take your ass to the petrol station and get some on-the-verge-of-death flowers!

The Slender Shaper

So you wanna lose weight? Here’s an idea: how about your laze around your house with a vibrating Hello Kitty fanny pack stuck to your pot belly? Yep, that’s gonna work. Alternatively, you could turn the TV off (to avoid the temptation of any of the above products) and just take your fat ass (and the rest of you) to the gym. And put that Snickers down while you’re at it. Just a thought. Does anyone ever even take a moment to consider how ridiculous anything featured on an informercial looks? Why are you OK with being a grown woman and having Hello frikkin’ Kitty strapped to your midsection like that’s normal? You’re not the bill payer in your house are you? Because I’m gonna need someone with an ounce of sense to take over those duties for you. Put the remote down! OK, now come here – let’s hug it out with the Hug-e-Gram. Everything will be alright,

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Things Which Must Stop: The Autumn/Winter ’09/’10 Edition

Wednesday, October 28th, 2009

Shoulder Pads

Dear Designers, the ’80s sucked balls the first time around. In the name of Knot’s Landing, can you come up with an original idea? Shoulder pads? Really? Shoulder pads? As a girl with enough shoulders, I take extreme offense to this entire trend. I’ll look like a line backer if I wear half of this shit. It’s not cute. Oh sure, the size zero models you design for could use a little extra shape, but anyone over a size four will look like Shamoo. And in case you didn’t get the memo, we women who are size eight and above, kinda run shit, so you might want to take that into account.

Extreme Blusher

I’ve seen a couple of girls out and about trying to rock this hyper-blushed trend. At first, I thought they were bringing awareness to the issue of domestic violence until I realised they were trying to pull of a ‘look’. This reminds me of when my grandma used to smear red lipstick on her cheeks and rub it in. That looked much better than whatever this ‘trend’ is trying to be. I thought the purpose of blusher was to bring ‘a little’ colour to your cheeks. This makes you look like you’re either extremely embarrassed or just finished a round of fisticuffs.

Animal Print

Ahh nice, yet another look that’s been done to death. A little zebra or leopard print on shoes or a handbag is fine, but throw on a whole dress of it and you look like a tacky pub landlady or someone with an extreme gambling problem, or both. Unless of course, it’s a costume party and you’re going as a drunken cougar, then it’s totally acceptable.

Whew – here’s hoping Spring 2010 brings more exciting things.

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What Not To Wear

Monday, September 21st, 2009

A few days ago, one of the trending topics on Twitter was What Not to Wear. Now, you know I have advice on this for days, so I went a little crazy with it. I thought I’d compile a few of the most popular ones I tweeted as a sort of guideline, if you will, to steer you in the direction of good taste. (Of course, the very fact that you are reading this blog, automatically means you have good taste, but should you have friends with no taste, feel free to pass this along).

- Cowboy boots, cowboy hats, basically anything cowboy themed, unless you are out legitimately rounding up cattle for a living.

- Sunglasses in a nightclub. Why not just literally stick your head up your ass instead?

- Denim mini skirts with leggings. Could you be more of a cliche?

- Pigtails. If you’re over the age of 8 and not a German milkmaid, it’s just unacceptable.

- Low rise jeans with a thong underneath. As soon as you sit down we get your whale tail in HD and it’s not appreciated.

- Chipped nail polish. If you have time to put it on, you have time to take it off.

- Jeans with no back pockets. The fabric doesn’t fool me homie, you’re basically trying to rock leggings and we all know that’s out.

- Anything from Lady Gaga’s wardrobe.

- Anything made by Beyonce’s mama.

- Low cut tops if your boobs are down to your knees. That’s not cleavage, it’s an abyss.

- White girl weave. This white girls with weave phenomenon has to end some time. I vote for right now.

- 17,000 necklaces at the same time. Only Mr T can pull that shit off.

Now of course, the old standards of no Crocs, Ugg boots or flip flops still apply – I just figured you would be more than familiar with my hatred of that particular trifecta of footwear hell.

Now go forth and be fashionable!

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Facebook Fatigue

Tuesday, September 1st, 2009

Facebook Fatigue from Muireann Carey-Campbell on Vimeo.

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Things Which Must Stop: The Summer Edition

Wednesday, August 12th, 2009

 

Weather Complaining

 

Yeah, yeah, I get it. The weather hasn’t been perfect. It’s been unseasonable. There’s been some rain. But I’m from England. This is a pretty regular summer to me. So how about you just shut the fuck up, enjoy the sunny days when they happen and think of something new to complain about? I swear to God, every single person you encounter has something to say about the weather conditions, like they’re Al frikkin’ Roker all of a sudden (British people, he’s a weatherman, just so you know). ‘How are you today?’ ‘Well, I’d be good if it wasn’t for all this rain,’ SHUT UP! 

 

 

Public Nudity

 

Specifically fat older man public nudity. When the hell did this ever become acceptable? Soon as the sun comes out, men with the worst bodies ever get it in to their twisted little minds that they can just take their T Shirts off all willy nilly and walk around topless. Guess again, Tubby. Unless your upper body looks like this, kindly keep your shirt on. Actually, do us all a favour and put a few more layers on. No one wants to see your beer gut. And when you’re walking down the street, shirtless and your belly ripples with every stride you take, do not, under any circumstances, have the audacity to wink at any member of the female tribe, you prick. 

 

 

Clear Bra Straps

 

I’m not sure what is so hard to understand about the concept of straps. If you are wearing a strapless dress, you need small boobs and a strapless bra. If you have giant jugs, straplessness is not your amigo. Deal with it. It’s bad if you attempt it with no bra (if your tits slap you in the face, you have no one to blame but yourself), but to wear a bra that has clear straps, with a strapless top, is even more insulting. Who do you think you’re fooling exactly? It’s summertime bitch. The sun reflects of those clear straps and we are all fully aware that you’ve got some major assistance holding up your fun bags. Clear straps were made to be worn with tank tops, though in my view we should all go back in time to when our mother’s were burning their bras and take those clear strapped pieces of crap out with a match.

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Things Which Must Stop – The Men's Edition

Wednesday, April 29th, 2009

 

Facial Hair

 

Fellas, are you aware that facial hair is essentially just pubic hair attached to your face? No? Well, it is. Studies have shown that nine times out of ten, a beard makes you look like a douchebag. So, if you must have it, you’ve gotta keep that shit in check. Don’t let it get unruly. And if you can’t grow something that makes some kind of sense, or you know your shit doesn’t grow in right, take a razor to it before I take a hack saw to it. If you are not getting laid, odds are it’s down to your unruly facial pubes (combined with your lack of personality, beer belly, intense body stench…whatever the case may be). 

 

 

Power Cologne

 

Cologne is not a substitute for deodorant. Please do not bathe in it. My nostrils cannot take that kind of brutality. If you’re unlucky enough to be standing upwind of a dude who doesn’t know when to stop with the cologne, that shit can knock you out faster than a date rape drug. Maybe that’s what they’re going for? Also, if you’re dousing yourself in that much smelly stuff, it seems like you’re covering something up. Clearly your natural stench is not all that hot. But you know what solves that? Soap, water and a little bit of deodorant. If you’re going through a bottle of Calvin Klein a day, you may need to seek help. 

 

 

Men in Flip Flops

 

You know how I feel about women in flip flops. Well, take those feelings and multiply them to the Nth degree and you get how I feel about men in flip flops. Never fellas. Just never attempt it. I don’t think any girl has ever said ‘My, that man has lovely feet.’ Keep those Chewbacca meets Harry and the Hendersons toes under wraps.

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Things Which Must Stop – The Music Edition

Wednesday, April 22nd, 2009

 

Lady Gaga

 

I’m not all the way sure what her deal is, so this is more of a preemptive strike. I sense I will have enough of her in the very near future, so she may as well stop now. While I respect that she’s ‘out there’ and going against the grain and pushing the fashion boundaries and all that bollocks, it all seems a bit forced and fake and well, made for 18 year old girls who work at American Apparel to drool to. I also dislike that she enjoys being in public wearing just a leotard. If she starts a trend with that shit, I don’t think I could handle it. I really need for people to wear pants. 

 

 

 

Soulja Boy

 

Somewhere in the world right now, DJ Kool Herc, Grandmaster Flash, Big Daddy Kane and numerous others are banging their heads against walls wondering how the hell this dip shit has risen from obscurity to make some of the worst trash to ever hit the airwaves. This new generation of rappers can go to hell. With their crazy dances and their radio jingle hits. I will personally be first in line to slap some sense into every 14 year old who has bought this fool’s record. And I’ll slap their mothers too. Yeah, I said it. 

 

 

Eminem

 

What’s that? Eminem is back on the scene? Oh, I must have missed that due to me not giving a shit. From the come back single, it sounds like the same old, same old. Maybe he should just stick to producing. It’s not even so much him releasing music that bothers me. It’s that it must be accompanied by his visual. And God damn! What the hell happened to his face? Seriously. I mean, he was never the best looking dude, but um, something looks a little off. And frankly, it scares me. I’m gonna need for him to get that fixed before attempting to be in the public eye again.

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Things Which Must Stop – The Ladies Edition

Tuesday, April 21st, 2009

 

Excessive Tattoos

 

Ladies, please, this is not cute. Any woman with tattoos on her upper arms, forearms, neck, shoulders, legs or anywhere else obvious looks like she just got out of prison. And they’re never small, subtle tattoos. They’re giant inked cliches. A Rose? Really? A heart with an arrow through it? Yawn. Bitch please. Whenever I see a girl with a tattoo on her upper arm, I assume a defensive stance and prepare to block a choke hold – because you just know chicks with those tattoos want to fight. (In case you were wondering, the technical term for that defensive stance is the ‘Back the Fuck Up’). 

 

You’ve got to know when to stop. What’s next? Tatooing your face, like Lil Wayne? Plus, you are kind of limiting your career options to only ever working in a tattoo parlour. Or a biker bar. 

 

 

Tongue Piercings

 

If you have a tongue piercing, let me clear up what every person you’ve ever spoken to has been thinking: they’re having an internal dialogue with themselves about the different ways they can rip that shit out of your mouth. It’s so intensely off putting. Scarily, I think girls with tongue piercings think they’re sexy. Our survey says? HELL NO! 

 

 

Acrylic Nails

 

I can’t stand plastic fingers (AKA acrylic nails). When the manicurist is doing that, they wear a frikkin’ surgical mask – that alone should tell you that shit isn’t healthy. But more annoying than the myriad of spray painted colours people tend to get splurged all over them, is the french manicure. Is it just me, or do chicks with acrylic french manicured nails make more elaborate hand movements for everything. Flaunting their nails around here, there and everywhere. To those ladies I’d like to say: They’re not your nails! I don’t care if you paid $35 for some asian dude with a surgical mask to super glue those shits on. It’s tacky. Stop it.

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Things Which Must Stop – The Public Displays of Affection Edition

Wednesday, November 5th, 2008


Kung Fu Hand Holding


I get it, it’s all cutesy and shit. And it’s nice to show the world that this is your guy/girl. But do you think you could let go of your vice-like grip of each other when someone is trying to get past you on the sidewalk? You know that if you let go, that doesn’t necessarily mean your man is leaving you, right? It’ll just be for two seconds, I promise. Because while you’re all in love, on cloud nine and all that bollocks, the rest of us have shit to do. I don’t have time to tap dance around you, just because you’re desperate to prove that someone finds your lovable. Merry frikkin’ Christmas. That’s awesome. Now, move! Untangle your fingers, step a few centimetres away from each other, let regular, loveless, godless, busy humans get past you, then you can get right back to your love fest.

 

 

Snake Face


There’s a time and a place for full on facial suction. On a train platform during rush hour is not it. And really what’s the point? Licking each others faces is going to lead to some inappropriate touching of various body parts, which will only lead to one thing and since we don’t live in the red light district in Amsterdam, you need to cut that shit out. A peck is fine, but if it lasts longer than three seconds, it gets uncomfortable. If it last more than 20 seconds it’s just perverse. Especially if you’re ugly. I think I speak for everyone in society when I say, we’d appreciate it if you kept your ugly sex to yourselves. That kind of stuff should only happen behind closed doors. Now, with that said, go find a door and frikkin’ CLOSE IT!

 

 

Eating Each Other for Dinner


You made the decision to go out to dinner. Can you at least try to focus on the food? You’ll be out for an hour and a half, two hours, max, then you can rush right home and devour each other. But while at the restaurant, your insistence on feeling each other up, feeding each other food and sucking on the ends of spaghetti until you meet in the middle makes me want to punch the both of you in the face. Plus, I really did come out to eat and you’re making me lose my appetite. If his hand’s not around the back of her chair, her hand’s rubbing his thigh. If he’s not playing with her hair, she’s feeding him some of her ice cream, trying to look seductive. Jesus, people! Next time, please, do everyone a favour and order take out. Your love of the PDA is just nauseating.

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Things Which Must Stop – The Underwear Edition

Tuesday, September 9th, 2008


The Arethas


Thank God summer is over, because if I saw one more big breasted girl going braless, I would not be responsible for my actions. If you are bigger than a B cup, you can’t do it, plain and simple. Some C’s can get away with it, but if you’re bigger, you’ve gotta get you something to lift those puppies up and strap ‘em down. Nobody wants to see your saggy funbags flapping in the breeze. It can’t be comfortable to have them swinging around uncontrollably. And you obviously don’t realise it makes you look 10 pounds heavier than you actually are – why would you want that? I’m a small chested chick and I will live and die with padding and underwire. So you bigger girls should only set your funbags free in the privacy of your own home where they can’t hurt anyone, otherwise, when you’re running for the bus and get slapped in the face by your left tit, you have no one to blame but yourself.

 

 

The Whale Tail


Sometimes, a slight revealing of the knickers is unavoidable and accidental, shit happens. But if you’re wearing ultra low rise jeans and you sit down, you must be aware that the piece of dental floss you flung around your nether regions is peeking out the top of your True Religions and exposing half your ass cheeks. Ever heard of a boyshort? Or may I suggest a brazilian thong? But that tacky La Senza number, with the heart shaped rhine stones in the middle of your coccyx, well, it ain’t cute. And deliberately hiking up the sides of your G String so they hover well above the waistband of your jeans? Strippers do that – is that a breed you want to be associated with? But if you must insist on wearing a thong with a low rise pant, maybe just ensure that you don’t sit down or bend over. Ever.

 

 

The Sag


I don’t care what kind of boxers you’ve got on, or how nice an ass you have fellas – pull your frikkin’ pants up. There are few looks more ridiculous than this. And when you choose to accessorize it with a Jesus piece and your pigeon chest, a la Lil Wayne, it has even less appeal. This entire look seems to be centred around the fact that you intend to spend 95% of your day pulling your pants up, just so they can sag back down to your mid-thigh five minutes later. You can’t win with this ensemble. Either you go for the looser boxer short and they mushroom over the top of your jeans, or you go for the boxer brief and your arse looks like two eggs in a hankerchief and you’re inviting a spanking. Hey, I have a crazy idea: hows about you just buy regular sized pants and a belt? Save yourself the constant pulling up of the pants and keep those plaid boxers, that came in a set of three (birthday gift from your mama, naturally) to yourself.

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