Reese Witherspoon Excludes Ryan Phillippe From Her Wedding Thereby Saving Her Bridesmaids From Hours Of Grab Ass
By Joanna Robinson | Posted Under Pajiba Love | Comments (19)
Warm hugs to you, my Burnt Siennas and Pulchritudinous Puces, flip through these sumptuous images from India’s Festival of Colors, then look at the drab beige of your cubicle wall, then pour some whiskey into your coffee. (The Big Picture)
The Pajiba office, in case you were wondering, is not beige. In fact, it’s a more tentacular version of the Etsy office. Oh, and every day is “No Pants Friday.” (Laughing Squid)
While I firmly believe the walls of the Film Drunk office are cuvered in booooooobs, I do admire their attempt to make “Bring A Tank To A Cockfight” happen. It’s got more of a chance than “fetch” anyway. (Film Drunk)
The Unreality office, on the other hand, might do well to plaster their wall in these glorious fake posters (my favorite is below). Cue the Phil Collins/Lynyrd Skynyrd mash-up! (Unreality)
Speaking of Reese, if you were America’s Sweetheart (suck it, Sandy), would you invite your perma-sneering ex-husband to your wedding? Thought not. (Celebitchy)
In the world of Perma-Sneerers, this kid might be once and future king. (Prospect Magazine)
Or he could just be cute. Mini things are cute. Like, if I’m choosing between cake and cupcakes, I choose cupcakes every time. Here’s a nifty poster of cupcake ingredients. They’re more than milk and eggs, bitch. (Years Later)
If, however, that cake were Oregon Trail themed and you used these mitts to pull it out of the oven, well I’d be impressed. I might even caulk your wagon. I said might. (Geeks Are Sexy)
In a further effort to underestimate the intelligence of its viewers, some shows will now include expository subtitles. This article made me angry until I got to the the fake “Lost” one and then I laughed. That show was complicated, y’all! (Warming Glow)
Less complicated is my favorite serial killer, Dexter. Watch him on Netflix Instant while you still can. (The Mary Sue)
Speaking of mass murderers (actual, not televisual), today France shot down one of Muammar Qaddafi Mo’ammar Gadhafi Muammar Kaddafi Muammar Qadhafi’s planes. Here we go. (BBC)
I really dig this short lightsaber badminton match. The first person to say something about racist red lightsabers gets my Darth boot up their bum.
Finally, here’s a commerical for the Russian “How I Met Your Mother.” There are no subtitles (expository or otherwise) but here’s my helpful insider tip: “CHTO?!?!!” (pronounced “STOA?!?!”) means “WHAT?!??!” I know, you never would have gotten that from the subtle body language.
Joanna Robinson is now drafting a script for the feature film “Darth Boot.” It mostly involves Lord Vader rasping “SCHNELL!!” If you have plot ideas, send them to godtopuswept@gmail.com or @quityourJRob
Each Time You Like, Share, Tweet or Stumble a Pajiba Post, An Angel Does the Paul Rudd Dance
← The Independent Film Festival of Boston: The Outstanding Underappreciated Gem of Film Festivals | Earning Forgiveness is Overrated: The Comeback Concept →
Comments
Posted by: huh at March 24, 2011 1:20 PM
This is the most incoherent thing I have ever tried to read. What pills are you taking?