I know that some people claim that they don’t like gingers, or gingers don’t have souls. To those people I say : “Fine with me, you don’t have to fuck them because I will.” There really is nothing hotter than a ginge in my book. Much like penises, vaginas, and mulatto children, gingers come in all different shapes and sizes. Here is a breakdown of the categories, accompanied by some shots from the “Modern Hero” shoot by Troy Wise featuring ginge model Jonathan.
The Alabaster Ginge- These redheads have skin like liquid marble and aren’t afraid to flaunt it. They are, however afraid of the sun. They wear bright red lipstick to match their bright red hair and slather on so much sunscreen even on cloudy days that doppler radars everywhere register them as atmospheric moisture. On the days when these redheads find themselves without protection from the sun, you may be lucky enough to spot the ever elusive “lobster ginge.”
The Tanned Fannie- These redheads are okay with the red hair, but can’t abide the pale skin. They shellack their bodies with spray tan until their nipples are traffic cone orange, all in the vain hope that one day their freckles will connect and they will be an even shade of brown. Its delusional, its vain, and I’d fuck it. Any day, any way.
The Calico Ginge- Calico ginges are best identified by the fact that none of their hair is the same color, much like a calico quilts that Laura Engalls Wilder had to sew to protect herself from being sleep-raped by her father on Little House on the Prairie. A Calico ginge may have red hair on their head, blond eyebrows, a black and red beard, and white chest hair. I am pretty sure they are the result of the last time God drank Jager.
The Freckled Fuck- These are my favorite type of ginges because Read more…
Hey, kids. It’s Frecks again, although it’s been a minute since we’ve talked. Clearly, that means we have some music to discuss. And, in today’s case, it’s some super delicious, brain infecting dance pop music. And, because God made me a giver in addition to a homosexual, I’ve brought along some visuals to illustrate. (I’ll think later of ways you can thank me.)
Andrew Christian Dancers – F U Betta [Tribute to Neon Hitch]
Let’s start with this delightful bit of trash, shall we? It’s not even a little bit safe for work. (Unless you work as a go-go at Splash or something sad like that, in which case: “Get back on that bar and shake it for the tourists!”) Don’t say you weren’t warned.
How horrid, yes? I think we can all agree that such a terrifying display of flaming faggotry slash bossy bottom pride has seldom been seen outside of the dance floor at Bartini. Still, you can’t help but admire Andrew Christian for really knowing his customer base. And, you know, pandering to it so directly.
This artform brings a whole new meaning to the phrase “Your art is trash.” There are literally seagulls feasting on it. Though seagulls aren’t the vermin of the sky (those would be pigeons, and of course, Spirit Airlines) they still don’t have the most discerning palate when it comes to culinary masterpieces. The artists are Tim Noble and Sue Webster, and I think the statement they are making here is something that I have known all along and something that hits very close to home.
You can take the trash out of the trailer, but you can’t take the trailer out of the trash. I will personally always be one pink plastic flamingo away from an astro turf lawn and a 24 pack of coors light and I never intend to forget it. Read more…
I know you are probably thinking that you should know what a munny is, but don’t worry. Nobody does. From what I gather (I can’t be bothered to google) munnies are little plain plastic toys that you can buy and paint and decorate however you want. If you can take some time from your busy schedule of erotic asphyxiation and anal play, you should get one. Paint it. Get frustrated about how crappy it looks. Then put it in your ass.
In that order. Read more…
Hey, kids. How you Laura Dern? You finally managed to shake off that persistent, lingering Sunday brunch hangover? Ready to talk about music perhaps? Maybe?
Lana Del Rey’s album, “Born to Die,” was officially released today. Any of y’all already listened to it ten times through on repeat? Excepting a stan-tastic rave review on Gloganvlog?
Not so much of that here, I’m afraid. Don’t get me wrong: I think the album’s great. I think it lived up to my expectations and then some. That said, basically everyone on the entire internet has already chimed in on what they think about it, often at agonizing length, and I just can’t be bothered to contribute to that. Suffice to say, if, like me, you are at all into super stylish, well-produced moody electropop, get your filthy gay hands on a copy of that album, ASAP.
Instead of talking about Lana, I figured I’d link some music videos that I think don’t suck too hard. Maybe you can watch them while you’re waiting for
the pain of your bleak existence the workday to end and let me know what you think in the comments.
Phantogram – When I’m Small
I love that one of my very favorite songs of 2010 got what is basically a perfect video treatment: a mini movie that’s just as sexy, cool and impeccably produced as the song itself.
I’m serious guys. I watched the interviews with each of the drag race contestants. I’m going to give you a quick rundown before you even watch episode 2 of this season of drag disg-race.
1. Jiggly Caliente
Jiggly Caliente is definitely jiggly, but as for the caliente….I guess she adds hot sauce to the audience members that she consumes?
2. Chad Michaels
I was unaware Hulk Hogan‘s ex-wife, Linda Hogan was going to be in this season’s race. She’s going under the moniker Chad Michaels (maybe after her new 17 y/o boyfriend?)
3. Kenya Michaels
I have always believed that the point of art is to make you have a visceral, gut reaction. That reaction may be comfort, love, excitement, sadness, or the unmistakeable need to visit a Starbucks bathroom ASAP and blow it into the fucking stratosphere. I am not going to say that this art does that to me, because frankly if I get banned from Starbucks I don’t know where I will get my afternoon blowjobs (a locking single bathroom? What did you expect SB?) but the bad-assery of William Basso cannot be denied. More images after the jump. Read more…
I know I shouldn’t make fun of her because, as an out and proud female actress Amber Heard is doing a lot for young emo gay kids everywhere, but I have to be fair. If I don’t make fun of gay people, I can’t make fun of Jews and Asians either. (Yeah, I know you think I was going to say black, but then pussed out because I am afraid to say it. But I’m not. BLACK.) Amber Heard recently dyed her hair BLACK (or is it African American?) and got a new tattoo. Paparazzi, fans, and dudebros everywhere kept mistaking Heard for a normal girl instead of a carpet muncher, so she decided to amp up her gayness with Read more…
Whenever I approach art, I don’t like to read too much about the artists intentions. I feel like the point of art is to make you feel things and draw your own interpretations. When I look at the above piece of art by Carne Griffiths, I see an exploding vagina.
And that speaks to me.
My sister, who used to worship the devil and own an actual wolf. Read more…