Pull a Date Out of Your Hat

Just in time for Valentine's Day.....A young woman has taken finding love in NYC into her own hands by posting missed connection posters throughout the subways looking for a man she saw riding a Brooklyn bound A train in November.

Cleverly designed to look like an official MTA poster, this grabs your attention and rips at all the cold, loveless souls by reminding us that a fragile heart is at stake. And she even impressively scripted that in several languages.
But it turns out that these posters aren't just looking for lost love. They are about their author, performance artist Maria Luisa Portuondo Vila, looking for attention for herself and her art and art collective. Ugh, isn't anything real anymore? Even love is an internet hoax.
While Vila does claim to the NY Daily News that this is both an attempt to find love and an art project saying, "I really saw this man in the subway and I like him," I am skeptical. Mostly because of that sketch of the man she is allegedly looking for. It shouldn't be too hard to track down a man wearing a top hat around Manhattan. Right? And if I saw a man in a top hat on the train that I found that beguiling, I certainly would rely on the easy conversation starters of "I love your hat" or "You must have a great milliner" or "Do you have a rabbit in there?" Under no circumstance would I just sit there and let that top hat gentleman pass by.
Also, I feel she may be living out an artist fantasy and just thinking of one of these men. Not that I can really blame her. Maybe she is thinking that like with Frosty the snowman, if she puts a top hat on the man he will become real.

Speaking of men in top hats, remember that man a couple of years ago who ended up in the emergency room with a tiny top hat glued to his head. Maybe he's single?

The First Olympic Victory

Canada has won the Olympics before they even started.

I Hate Valentine's Day and Now You Will Too.

Much of the Northeast is covered in nothing less than 40 feet of snow which means as a shut in,  I have had plenty of time today to peruse the interwebs to find things to write about.
And this is what I decided you most needed to know about. You are welcome and I'm sorry.
Japanese women are allegedly tweeting about creating love potion chocolates for their Valentines using special ingredients such as period blood and hair.
Now, because of the absurdity of this, many have been speculating about the veracity of this disgusting trend, let's assume for a moment that what we read is true.

While, I find this absolutely revolting, and truthfully am questioning whether I'll be able to eat chocolate in the near future, I am also intrigued. Maybe this is why I am single this Valentine's Day -and all other Valentine's Day in recent past. Maybe, since I haven't been making chocolate spiked with my menstrual blood for my boyfriends, they leave me because they don't have a part of me inside them. That must be it.
The Japanese call homemade chocolate gifts for men "honmei choco," and they don't always have to have secret ingredients included. But when you read the tweets of these girls (in the article in link above) about what they are putting in their chocolate and why they are doing it-you will be scared.
It's weird that chocolate, the great savior of my PMS pain, is now being made into something disgusting that is giving me stomach pains. Why? Don't take chocolate from me!
Anyway, this concept, is not new. Historically, and throughout many cultures, a woman's period is considered sacred and powerful. In Cherokee tradition, menstrual blood can destroy a woman's enemies. And in Africa, menstrual blood is used in powerful magical charms. So it does not seem too far off base that women would use the blood and power of their V to try to cast a V-Day love spell.
Still, I am pretty sure that if I was a dude in Japan (or anywhere really), I would avoid the consumption of any and all chocolate gifts. Just in case. Stick to those conversation hearts. Period.

 *Also, I hope this post has effectively helped ruin this cheezy, overrated holiday for everyone.

Love Lockdown

So, we have such power and resources in this great age of technology. You can read almost everyday about new advances that could change the world. It's so inspiring. I just truly love science. And my bra just burst off!
Ok, no it didn't, but I'm trying to make the point about how idiotic the newest technological achievement is. Yes folks, some scientists (male scientists) in Japan at a company Ravijour have created a bra that not only offers support for your titties but for your moral judgements as well as it only opens for your "true love."

The company explains on their site how this undergarment turns you into a Disney Princess. They say it works by "a built in sensor reads the woman's heart-rate signal and send it to a special app via Bluetooth for analysis. The app then calculates the True Love Rate based on changes in the heart rate over time. When the True Love Rate exceeds a certain value, the bra is unhooked automatically."
Auto-freakin-matically? What the what? No. Just no.

So this bra, as depicted above in a gif from their amazing marketing campaign, won't come off until my true love is there? (Look at that idiot.) But does this mean that even I can't take it off? Coming home after a long day, one of the first things you do is pull your bra off through a sleeve as you are pouring your glass of wine.
And what does it really matter if it's my true love. Wouldn't it be more effective to also keep my pants on if I was so concerned about giving it up to a not-so-true love? I'm pretty sure keeping my chastity bra on won't protect me from just stealing bases and heading towards home if that's what is happening.
And, let's say you are wearing this high-tech lingerie, when it decides you are in love and opens "automatically," does it have any idea in what context this is happening. Is it during dinner on a great date? Is it holding hands while walking? Chances are you aren't undressed and now have a bra unhooked and flopping under your clothes. Yeah, that won't be awkward. But I guess since it's your true love, he'll understand?
And what if this presumptuous equation to devise your heart rate recognizing your true love has flaws in it. I truly love my cat. Does this mean whenever I lay eyes on her my bra would just burst off?

I don't think this is what we need. I think it's like that absurd dress that was designed last year that goes see-through when you are turned on. I mean I get it, as a woman, I definitely wish men would get a clue, but having clothes that send out such strong signals for us seem like even more trouble. Let's go back to using science for good. Remember, we are only months away from the future promised to me in Back to the Future Part II and I don't have a flying car. I'd absolutely rather have that awesome flying car than a bra that passes moral judgements on me. That's what my mother is for.

Oh What A Circus

I did not watch the Grammy's. I just was too tired to deal with what I was confident was going to be an overwhelming amount of craziness. Of course today, the internet is making me feel like that loser who missed the party with all the cool kids and now is doomed to forever be a beat behind in catching those in jokes that will go on forever. But I don't care. I read the recaps.....Smokey the Bear hat, Beyonce looking sexy, massive wedding on stage to Macklemore, Pink wowing with acro-dancing.....I feel I can fake it and hold my own should any of this manage to stay relevant past today.

But there was one part of the circus last night that I think deserves it's own ring-creepy clown. 

This is amazing. This dude (actually musician Shawn "Clown" Crahan) walked the red carpet in a nightmare inducing clown mask. And he became my hero.
Now let's be honest, the red carpet is no stranger to celebrities scarily looking like clowns strutting their stuff.

In fact, red carpet fashion is really getting more and more about shock value. We've gone past J-Lo wearing a skin-baring dress that is only held together at her hoohah to Lady Gaga's performance art arrivals in an egg from which she births herself in a yolk yellow bikini.
Seems a natural progression to just full on terrifying clowns to me. I hope he is invited to the Oscars.

Pluto May Be Out, But Hillary is In

The New York Times Magazine is introducing us to a new planet.

This is planet Hillary. And frankly, I'm terrified and will be up late haunted by this cover image.

By now, poor Hillary is no stranger to unflattering covers and photos:

And that is to be expected and unfortunately comes with the territory of being in the public eye.

But the difference with this cover of the NYT Magazine is that they designed this horrific Hilary planet head. The cover goes along with an article by Amy Chozick which talks about Clinton’s influence on the various people within her political universe. And the Time's explains this cover art saying that when brainstorming ideas for a cover for this article, "the immediate idea that came to mind was Clinton’s face embedded on a planet." Really? The great minds at The Times and that's what came to mind?
Well, what comes to mind immediately to me with this cover is the equally confusing and disturbing image of that flaming baby sun head from Teletubbies.

I'm also thinking it's oddly bringing back the discomfort I felt watching Jonathan Winters portray Humpty Dumpty in the trippy 1980's made-for-tv "Alice Through the Looking Glass" adaptation.

So really nothing this cover is conjuring up is making me think positively about a world leader whom I greatly respect. Nope. Instead I'm feeling confused and like I may need therapy.
I just don't get it. Why can't Hillary be presented in a way that we can take her seriously. This cover, despite being attached to an article that is praising her and while incredibly complimentary to how influential she is in concept, seems to be mocking her. A disturbing trend I perceive that continues to be the problem when it comes to her brilliant career.
Or maybe it's just me and my apparent long time floating egghead issues reading too much into it. I don't know. I just hope I can sleep tonight.
Also, how quickly do you think there will be an Asteroids like game inspired by this that involves Planet Hilary exploding?

No McDonald's for Old Men

By now I'm sure you've heard about the war between a McDonald's in Queens and the group of walker and cane wielding old men who hang out there all day allegedly taking up seating and only ordering one small french fry to share. These men have become more persona non grata than the Hamburglar.
"It's a McDonald's not a senior center," quipped the McDonald's manager to the New York Times. There have even been multiple phone calls by the restaurant to 911, in their desperate attempt to get these customers out.
But when questioned why they come there, none of these long dwelling patrons seemed to be able to give an answer. And it's not for the Big Macs. One of the older gentlemen told the Times he doesn't even like McDonald's food.
A representative from McDonald's corporation is supposed to comment and help deal with this situation. But I think it will be hard for them to make a comment on this. They know why those old men are there. They've been marketing this for years. Check out these commercials. Case solved.