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• Q: What’s hottier than being a photographer who gets paid to shoot at Sharapova’s lower half (as seen on your left)? A: My tomato red face and neck after schlepping round newly married el Hofbergo thru three boroughs from sunup til sundown this past Saturday. The day started with a jaunt to Coney Island, for some Cyclone action, batting cages hits and misses, Nathan’s diarrhea-inudicng-bacon-cheese fries, and to see what all this Mermaid Parade hubbub was all about. Fitting that this year’s king was Buster Poindexter, cause sh%t was more hot than Pat O’Brien singing ‘Hot, Hot, Hot‘. And by hot, I’m talking about the weather, and not what turned out to be one of the most pointless parades I’ve ever attended. And like most parades that don’t feature Shriners in go-karts, there were plenty of titties grossier than Tara Reid’s and more reasons why nearly nekkid men are never a good thing to be near [for full pictorial, see end of this mammoth paragraph]. After being blinded by all of dem flabby yammy yam-yams and being turned into a raisinet in the sun, it was thyme to ride the N train from its starting point to its second to last stop in Astoria, Queens. What could be worth taking a train that long if you aren’t a member of The Warriors? The not-so-best-kept secret in all of NYC: The Bohemian Hall & Beer Garden. A couple o’ $12 pitchers of Spatan, kielbasas, and cup cakes from someone’s baby shower later, I was ready to throw up on myself, but remembered that I would rather my skin be ruby red than Oompa-Loompa-Lohan-orange. Later we shuffled off to the Bowery B-bestroom, via a few Hades Sweatfest ’05 Subway Platforms, to czech out the not so-feisty Feist. Her gentle jams and sweet Beth Ortonesque voice made for the least rockiniest show I’ve seen at the Bowery, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing. Sometimes Thigh Master needs to take a break from all this re-tread British music and sway to slower sounds, like that of Natalie Merchant, Edie Brickell, Mazzy Star, et al. Anywhom Feist is great music to have on in the background. Maybe while doing your taxes, fixing dinner, or banging your spouse. Note to record execs: if she ever started a fan club, you have to call it Feist Club. You figure out with the first rule is, cause I juss come up with the puntastic concepts. It was late, and my thighs were hurting from all the Mary chafing Carpenter. We quickly puffed some apple tabac at the Ruby Lounge, shoved some Rosario’s pizza pie down our pie holes, and returned to Thighland, so we could tuck in my dearest adopted Van Dame, Dakota Fanning, into bed for the evening. I was so spankin outive it that Dakota Fanbelt should tucked my a$$ to bed. Oddly enuff, Dakota didn’t want to come with us to Coney Isle cause she said it could never compare to the time she spent there with her annoying nanny.
• Peace the fork out
Tigger (not
this Tigger),
Gargamel,
Zummi Gummi,
Fleegle,
dummy fingerer, inventor of the artificial heart, and the guy who was all dem things,
Paul Winchell. Also, add
a gospel singer AND
a dude who probably did a fork lode of acid and dug smelly hippy bizatches to the list of PTFOutters.
• Slappy B-day to the first product with a bar code, a 10-pack of Wrigley’s Juicy Fruit chewing gum, that was scanned at a check-out counter, at a Marsh supermarket in Troy, Ohio. In honor of this special day, d-lode: ‘Chewing Gum‘ by Annie
• Want more lodes in yer lobes? Taste Keane tacklin’ of U2’s ‘With or Without You’ [not a direct d-lode], Paul Van Dyk’s’Nothing But You‘, Faithless’eses ‘Insomnia‘ and a remix of Travis’ ‘Re-Offender‘ [via Fakor]
• Spicoli to play the Joker?
• Looking for Lohag? Head to St. Paul. Looking for Cuthbest? Head to Moscow. Looking for Mr Goodbar? Click here.
• Wanna see under the radar uber-hottie Rosamund Pike nude? Too late, cause that era has cum and gone. But you can look at these snaps of her pretending to bang Remington Steele!
• The trailer for Episode III that Lucas didn’t want you to see… complete with all the cut Jar Jar dialog bits. [via FlakMag]
• Girl I want: Girl In The Cafe
• Bionic Man Moves Artificial Arm With Brain, wit pics AND vid! [via Cruisespanko]
• Sometimes I wish I was an adult small
• Oldies but yummies: Fractured GI Joe PSAs
• Those aren’t two pillows… they’re Sharapova Breast Pillows?!?!?!? [much WTFness via H-Listing]
• And whilst me and the delegates of the Continental Thighness are more busy than Philipps deciding on the IIIrd Her Royal (cept we can never get anything done cause Sio keeps saying that everything’s an ‘invasion’), I’ve let Dakotapaint play with some of my old mos flavorite toys. She didn’t shine to my Lite Brite, Presto Magix, or Shrinky Dinks, but seemed to dig my Playmobil pals. I knew she was the best living female actress on planet girth, but who knew she had such great taste? Too bad parents today need to take out a 2nd mortgage on their homes just to pay for these very eggceptional and very eggspensive toys. Bi they gay, here’s another good place for Playmobil memories.
02. Jul, 2005 
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