It’s that (two times) of the year again! Daylight Savings! And this time we’re going into the future. As always, EAT YOUR RIBOFLAVIN!
Remember to change your clocks from normal to awesome!
It’s that (two times) of the year again! Daylight Savings! And this time we’re going into the future. As always, EAT YOUR RIBOFLAVIN!
Remember to change your clocks from normal to awesome!
Filed under Back to the Past, Krebstar, Lady Holiday
Four days have passed since Lindsay Lohan returned to host Saturday Night Live, and the benefit of time does nothing to portray her performance in any more of a positive light. Yes, in spite of her wooden, stumbling, at times helpless appearance, the show delivered some of its strongest moments of the season (including Bill Hader reaching new levels of brilliance as both Shephard Smith and James Carville, and an inspired, if somewhat haphazardly placed, “Music of the 70s” commercial parody with a retro-coiffed Jason Sudeikis), but those sketches don’t negate Lohan’s awkward struggle, her 90-minute death march, and nor has almost a week of reflection.
It wasn’t always this way. And that’s why this is so sad, so tragic. There was a time when Lindsay Lohan was a bona fide star, white-hot and electric. The next big thing while simultaneously being the “it” the girl. And, yes, she had curves, but she also had talent. Was she a young Jodie Foster? Outside of the freckles, no. But she had something that a young Jodie Foster did not. Sizzle. Sparkle. That special something.
Inspired by some of our peers, we thought we’d run our own pop culture tournament. We are proud to present The Best Aunt Viv of All-Time Tournament. Check out the bracket below. There are some killer first round match-ups!
Cast your ballot now! The polls close Friday at 5pm.
Filed under MS Paint, You Decide
Before we start this off, we need to speak to Kat for a second. Girl, get it together. You bawl at Tribal Council like that one time Robbie Morris told his dad the dirty joke that we had told him at indoor recess earlier that day, and we were sent to bed without TV and ice cream (the joke, if you must know, is entitled “Seymour Upmore.” We’ll let you fill in the blanks). Kat, you need to toughen up. That was just your second of – if you’re exceptionally lucky – many Tribal Councils. But don’t take it from us, take it from Jimmy Dugan.
Got it? Good.
Unfortunately, once the ladies are able to dry their eyes, they’re doused with what was either ten minutes of drizzle or seven days of apocalyptic downpour. Either way, those bitches be WET (of course, one has question Chelsea’s decision to try to wait out the storm in the ocean. Then again, four feet of water probably offers more protection than their shelter. You know, cause chicks can’t build shit (jk, jk!)). But, defying their earlier histrionics, the women remain resolute, refusing to run to the big strong men and their big strong tarp (and the palms fronds the women themselves had woven. It’s kinda like a Gift of the Magi where one person gets totally fucked). Also, they somehow rejected Colton’s offer to cuddle. Now that’s will power. Girls, we had you all wrong.
Filed under Analysis, Century 21 Reality, God Laughs, The Worst, Tribal Council