Who gives a shit about National Bubble Bath Day? We don't. National Take Your Grand Kid Out to Lunch Day? Fuck that, and your grand kid, too. For the really fun days, the ones that nobody else has the imagination to celebrate, days like National Ain't Woke, Do Not Disturb Day℠, National Ignore the Ban on Plastic Straws Day℠, and others visit . . . The Book of Daze℠.
Your Virtual GanjaScope
A half-century's worth of smoking pot/hash/shatter/live resin carts has led us to conclude that horoscopes are more fun and more accurate when you're stoned...and they're even better when the person who wrote them was stoned, too. If you're looking to turn over a new leaf, visit GanjaScope.
The Grammar Prick
Meaner than a 250-pound lesbian Language Arts teacher, The Grammar Prick will split your head if you split an infinitive, dangle a participle, or dare to misuse penultimate. Visit The Grammar Prick.
There's a Saint for That
There's a saint in every pot, and a prayer card for every condition. Just tell us where it hurts you, and we'll tell you whom to call and where to send your donations. Let us pray.
Here's to a Brighter Day
Brights neither seek nor accept any supernatural "explanations" for life. If that sounds like a bright idea to you, click here.
Trigger warning! The content of this website may cause raging panic attacks in hypersensitive snowflakes who suffer from androphobia, galactophobia, emetophobia, corprophobia, claustrophobia, fear of taints, and other psycho-sexual maladies too numerous to mention.
The Grammar Prick Gets All Up in Thug Kitchen’s Ass Sep 29, 2015 - 10:16
WEST GOSHEN, Pa.—Today, boys and girls, we are going to depart from our usual custom of calling out the shitwads who ignore conventional norms of usage. No brickbats for the boneheads who confuse adoptive and adopted; no crucifying the clodhoppers who don’t know that irregardless is an irregular construction; not a single drop of disdain for the dickheads who think alot is one word. We are here instead to worship at the profane altar of Thug Kitchen, a website, two cookbooks, and a way of life whose motto is “Eat like you give a fuck.”
Thug Kitchen and its cookbooks are worthy of praise for several reasons. To begin: the writing is nasty, brutish, and short, muscular and direct. The authors write like they give a fuck, and you should, too. For example:
“This is a fucking wake-up call. This is for that section of the grocery store that you avoid. This is for drive-thru lines so long that they block traffic. This is for ketchup and pizza qualifying as fucking vegetables. This is for everyone who wants to do better but gets lost in the bullshit.”
No pussy-footing around here, kids. Not a compound or a complex sentence in sight. As for the profanity—that glorious, cheerful profanity—it supplies a jolt of flavor, like white truffle shavings on a vegan plate of pasta aglio e olio, but the paragraph is just as direct without it. So listen up, boys and girls, use all the goddamn profanity you want, but don’t expect it to rescue a limp-dick sentence. If your sentences have the mushy feel of overcooked pasta, no amount of assholes, motherfuckers, or dickheads is going to save it. Moreover, profanity takes practice, so practice up until you can wield it naturally, as in the following recipe for green pea and garbanzo bean dip.
“Think all green dips must be guacamole? Grab some peas and broaden your goddamn dip horizon with a batch of this green goodness—it’s packed with protein and a fuckload of fiber. Peas aren't the sexiest veggie in the store but they are cheap as shit and available year-round on the freezer aisle. Let these little green bastards help you be the envy of everyone else's stagnant snacking."
Sure as shit that doesn’t sound like Rachel Ray’s cookbooks—or even badass Tony Bourdain’s travelogues—and it’s lacking altogether in the luvvie aroma of other vegan cookbooks; but contrary to what Sister Mary Clitoris told me about people who use “foul language,” it doesn’t condemn a person to the life of an outcast. Thug Kitchen’s Facebook page has half a million fans. The first cookbook (there's a new one out presently) was #1 with a bullet on The New York Times hit parade. That’s a big fucking choir.
The brains and the attitude behind Thug Kitchen belong to Michelle Davis and Matt Holloway, both about thirty. For the two years between the time they started the Thug Kitchen website and the publication of the Thug Kitchen cookbook in October 2014, nobody knew fuck all about them. They didn’t pimp themselves or even put their names anywhere on the site. As Mr. Holloway told Epicurious, "You see a hundred photos of [cookbook authors] before you even get to a goddamn recipe. Photos of their relationship, their family, and their farm—I fucking hate you, I'm not going to read your recipes now!"
Can I get a "hear, hear" up in here? That’s fucking tao, boys and girls. “True words aren't eloquent; eloquent words aren't true. Wise men don't need to prove their point; men who need to prove their point aren't wise."
Some photos cannot be shopped. They are perfect just the way god made them. Such perfection does not happen by accident, and wise, indeed, is the man who says "you can't photoshop this."
The Pug Bus Interview
Enjoy the interviews nobody else has the sack to do. We aren't afraid to stop totally at the surface, because no matter how beautiful a person might be on the inside, you've still got to look at him or her when you're speaking to 'em..Read on.