Posts Tagged ‘bad taste’

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!

Tags: , ,
Posted in fashion | 4 Comments »

Bad Style Choices 101: Dog the Terrible Taste Hunter

Monday, April 13th, 2009

1-719684

 

This chick is a little slice of tacky heaven. I used to watch Dog The Bounty Hunter, until it came out that they’re all a bunch of racist, N-word-dropping douchnozzles. But I gotta admit, I revel in this woman’s obscenely tacky taste. It brings me unprecedented levels of joy. 

 

This big-titted bad ass is the poster child for trailer park chic. And let’s talk about those breasticles for a moment, shall we? Jesus take the wheel! I need to know how she manages to get out of bed in the morning with those things. On the show, she actually apprehends criminals – she runs, people. Runs! I’m surprised that doesn’t trigger some kind of natural disaster. Homegirl likes to rock intense V-necks too. If anyone was looking for KFC’s secret recipe – I’d check her cleavage. In fact, check her cleavage for anything that’s been lost in the history of time. Who the hell knows what she’s got stashed down there. Those are some bona fide Arethas.

 

1119255093_1646139755_aande-dog-the-bounty-hunter-beth-keynote-sf

 

 If you can manage to take your eyes off her chest for a moment, you notice other little gems, like her fake platinum blonde hair extensions, the way she matches her eye shadow with her outfits and how she always wears those press on nails. It’s like she’s playing dress up, except she’s an adult and she really shouldn’t be trying to fit into her 6 year old daughter’s tops.

 

beth

 

But hey, not everyone can get it right all of the time and some people get it right none of the time – of which, Ms Big Titted Terrible Taste Hunter, is one. May she continue to wear mini skirts and open-toed mules while chasing criminals and have her giant chest slap her in the face with each stride she takes.

Tags: , , ,
Posted in fashion | 4 Comments »

The Confessional

Tuesday, April 1st, 2008


It was time for me to get some things off my chest again, so I paid a visit to Father McBangs for confession.


Me: Wassup Father. Heavens to Betsy, have I sinned! It’s been about a month since I was last up in here.

Father McBangs: Sussudio girl?

Me: Awww, you remembered? I’m touched!

Father McBangs: Only because it got me hooked on the power of Sussudio, which hasn’t gone down well with the Bishop, but what are you gonna do?

Me: Trust me, he’ll come around to the overwhelming talents of Phil eventually. Hang in there.

Father McBangs: So what can I do you for?

Me: Well Father, again, it’s a pretty bad one.

Father McBangs: Fear not, my child. God doesn’t judge.

Me: Yeah, well, he might renege on that whole thing when he hears this. OK, so, for the first time ever…I watched Dancing with the Stars.

Father McBangs: And?

Me: And I enjoyed it! Ugh. I feel dirty and used.

Father McBangs: What’s wrong with Dancing with the Stars?

Me: What’s wrong with it? Let me count the ways Father! First off, I don’t even know who any of these alleged ‘stars’ are, which should, in itself, negate the whole premise of the show. Secondly, I pride myself on having impeccable taste in pretty much everything, but yet, when this show came on, I couldn’t look away. It’s like car crash television.

Father McBangs: I’m partial to a bit of salsa myself.

Me: Really? I took you for more of a cha cha kinda guy.

Father McBangs: You should see me when I get my hips working.

Me: Those are words no one should ever hear their priest say. Look, you have to help me Father, I don’t want this to get out of hand. The whole thing was just so wonderfully camp, I don’t know if I can give it up. The outfits, the pancake makeup, the stiff, lacquered hair, the train wreck that is Monica Seles.

Father McBangs: Yikes, yeah, she was pretty bad, but boy, what a trooper.

Me: I know, right?! And that deaf chick. I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but I kind of got a lump in my throat watching her – I mean, it is kind of amazing, no?

Father McBangs: The Lord works in mysterious ways.

Me: Like making you deaf but filling you with the spirit of the dance? Hells yeah.

Father McBangs: And I like the skimpy outfits and the men’s satin shirts billowing in the breeze.

Me: Do you also like Madonna by any chance?

Father McBangs: Why yes, I do actually.

Me: And Kathy Griffin?

Father McBangs: Yes! How did you guess?!

Me: Just a hunch. Look, can you just douse me in holy water or something, drown me, water board me in that shit if you have to. I can’t have this Dancing with the Stars debacle become a dark stain on, what has otherwise been, a pretty flawless record of good taste.

Father McBangs: Well, you’ll have to do a few rosaries for this one, for while I am a fan of the show, the Big Fella isn’t (He doesn’t like the band, says it’s a sin to cover classics so badly). And take a few bottles of holy water to bathe in on your way out.

Me: Cool. Oh and can you pad this pew a bit more, because if this run of bad taste continues I might be here a lot and all this kneeling is playing havoc with my knees. Thanks. Peace out Father.

Father McBangs: Peace out, indeed.

Tags: ,
Posted in life | 4 Comments »