What have I been Tumbling lately?

This may surprise you but I don’t spend all of my time sitting around thinking of cynical sentences to string together into senseless articles for the purpose of publishing on this blog. I made a decision a while ago not to use Crunkfish as a link dump. This was mostly because I enjoy banging on too much in these posts to find the time to present the entire multitude of awesome stuff I encounter daily on teh ‘netz. Therefore random (and frankly brilliant) rants from the frenetic maelstrom that is my imagination end up on these pages while articles, videos, images, and other stuff I find across the web go elsewhere.

One of these channels which I only just latched on to relatively recently but instantly lurved is Tumblr, which I use as a sort of inspiration dump/mood board. My tumblog (Deadlamb’s Giblets, as I’ve termed it for reasons that aren’t entirely important) is almost wholly free of troublesome words and is instead populated mostly by images I happen upon. Don’t read into it too much that the majority of these pics are of scantily-clad women – so’s the rest of the internet, it’s just proportionately representative that’s all…

Hit and follow Deadlamb’s Giblets; it’s definitely worth it.

To whet your appetite, here’s a sample of images taken from the blog:

Plenty more where those came from. Hope you enjoy it.

Return of the absent girlfriend wankathon – part 2: American Apparel Jailbait

I was reading an article the other day claiming American Apparel, nu-ethical productionist of skinny shit for cheap ‘n crunky fashionsluts, has spent squillions of cents pushing their adverts across the peoplenet. Y’know the ones: white background; Helvetica font; grungy co-ed chick with what looks like a roofy hangover. As much as those ads are effective in getting me to clickity-click my way thru to ogle some more models, I guess AA’s target audience of professional porn stars, amateur porn stars and students going to a fancy dress party as one of the above aren’t as susceptible to such subtle marketing techniques. The company has been losing greens in the millions lately.

Even if the absent girlfriend demographic isn’t what they’re going for, I’m willing to do my bit for this noble corporation which pulls illegal immigrants out of American sweatshops and puts them back in the gutter where they belong. (It probably roughs them up a bit on the way too, spitting in their faces and, if they’re a teenage chick with a bit of a tan, dressing them in Appy gear and photographing them for one of their adverts). Hence why today’s wankathon is celebrating commerical jailbait of the trendiest variety.

As a bit of extra fun, wholly ripped-off from inspired by Andrea and the rest of those black-lashed blog-bunnies from Heartless Doll, I thought I’d put together a quiz for y’all to try out. It’s called American Apparel or pr0n; and it’s probably not safe for work. Unless you work for American Apparel, in which case your desk is probably damp with this stuff. You’re a bad man.

American Apparel or pr0n
Below are some teeny snippets of what I’ll describe as pretty racy shit. Some of these shots are from American Apparel adverts; some are from the dark side of the infoweb (which is kind of like the dark side of an iceberg in that it’s shady, wet and much, much bigger than the light side…). Your task is to sort out the marketing porn from the real pr0n. Click on the images to find out. How many did you get right?

Return of the absent girlfriend wankathon – part I: Hot Sluts Fine Cuts

All day I’ve felt as though my eyes are sinking in vinegar. My body has been taut with the sort of tension M. Night Shyamalan stupidly believes he’s the master of. My nerves have been tighter than a Catholic choirboy’s asshole used to be and I’m so knackered I can barely think of a third cuntish sentence. Something to do with being highly strung… Any contemporary references to hanging? (Wait a minute, am I suggesting M. Night Shyamalan and Catholic choirboy gags are contemporary?) What about those emo kids who all committed suicide? They’d have probably cut their wrists; that’s what’s cool I guess. Hanging yourself is just so Shawshank Redemption. Which came out in 1994 and is another reference which doesn’t help my contemporary credentials much.

What I’m saying is that I should be sprawled across my bed cuddling a vodka bottle right now. Instead, I’m sat here in the dark listening to Thrash Unreal and wondering how to describe the sensation of two chilli powder-coated caterpillars attempting to force my eyeballs (which themselves feel like the planet Krypton moments before it exploded) across a pumping bass amp wrapped in glasspaper. Because that description was just wank.

Unfortunately, I can’t go to bed yet. My girlfriend left me alone (yet again) for a week-long tour of her native ex-Soviet satellite state (or something; she speaks commie) and I am therefore honour-bound to perform the obligatory wankathon in her absence. I don’t really fancy it, to be honest. Despite this, it is my duty as a man to tame the hairless mongoose at least as many times as I cook hot dinners while my girlfriend’s away. It’s for my readers and my gender that I declare the return of the absent girlfriend wankathon and prepare to flog the naked pirate like a champion.

The object of today’s wankathon (simply because I recently spent an obscene amount of money on some new threads and am feeling moderately fashionable) are the type of trendy, sub-trash, abused-chic style-whores who mostly exist to appear in the galleries of Last Night’s Party. It’s hard to pin down what’s best about these mistresses of the ‘victimise me’ look: the fact that half their monthly calorie intake comes from swallowing your load in the toilets of some electric jivebox or the accesible-only-by-force demeanour which makes you keep your distance until nightfall? Regardless of the answer, these chicks stumble along a 24-hour walk of shame safe in the knowledge that substance abuse never goes out of fashion. We should celebrate that.

More hot sluts in fine cuts (which I’m definitely going to turn into a website one day) can be found on Last Night Party (which is where I found these pics), Deadlamb’s Giblets and STNF, which is where I go to get all my style questions answered. Questions such as: if I was a grubby fashionista chick getting paid in ounces, exactly how much slut can I push into this pout…

I’m only kidding fashion chicks; I just really need to sleep…