my... kryptonite... fog... gun
Hopefully regular readers checked out the great Super Becca video I posted a while ago.The pic on the left is from Super Becca's website. It's one of those hypnotising pics that encapsulates everything that is awesome in the universe and the complete idiocy that is the interweb.
Why are they in a kitchen? Why wasn't the chair at least turned over in the struggle against the super villain? And who are these nerds that have found some very decent MILFS who like to dress up as heroines?
What I like about Super Becca is the kind of innocence she has, the way she talks about going to "FetishCon" like she was heading down to Spotlight to pick up some tapestry supplies. Though that kind of "no sex, my fetish is G-rated" takes the naughtiness out of it all.
I feel more than a bit guilty for linking stuff like this. Part of me thinks its dodgy, the other part thinks that I don't want to think about why I reckon it's funny.
WWPD? [What would Paglia do?]
PS If you get that joke you're a dirty christian.
PPS Speaking of Paglia (again), go to her website and check out her Top Ten lists:
"10. Mommie Dearest (1981) At a compulsory night class in aesthetics, Joan Crawford (Faye Dunaway) instructs her daughter to shun banal utilitarianism: "No wire hangers!""
posted by Lumpen at 7/16/2006 02:19:00 am
3 Comments:
I kinda get facinated with any one who has a strong passion about something. But yeah it is a strange feeling of guilt when you enjoy outsider art (it feels strange even calling it that) It's beautiful because it's not self concious but then you feel bad for geeting a iggle out of something they obviously take really seriously.
Glad you liked the link ;)
Everyone needs the odd wire hanger. I remember Patrick Bateman did some really great work with one, or two, in a movie I saw once.
Anthony, I understand. She has pow-wuhs and you want them for yuh-self.
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