Look at those NAILS! Union Jack–what what!

<3 x 4 million

Kill me now.

Really, America? Really?

AND

Awesome. I think I’d like to be her.

After I woke up at what seemed to me to be the crack of dawn, I packed my suitcase, took a shower, and walked out of my house to the metro. I was on my way to the train station to go to the airport.

I was about to embark on a voyage full of newly instated TSA approved body scanners, tiny travel sized liquids in plastic baggies, sweaty fellow passengers, crying children, slow security lines (Without fail, I always pick THE slowest line.), irritated families, long faces, and overpriced gift shops. Boy, do I love flying.

Anyway, while I was at the train station, I decided to kill time by getting an iced tea at the overcrowded Starbucks. 15 minutes after giving my order, I received my drink. They fucked it up.

Ugh. This drink is terribly sweet.

I normally drink what my college friends lovingly referred to as “swamp water.” It’s an unsweetened iced tea with no water. It’s bitter. That’s the point.

Aaaanyway, I get my delayed, sickeningly sweet beverage and walk upwards platform 9, where my train was departing. As I approach the platform, I notice a giant mass of people looking concerned and confused, standing at the base of platforms 9 and 10.

What could be the matter? Why were they all waiting around?

As I got closer, I see the problem. Our train was said to be departing from track 9, whereas the screen by track 10 had our train’s information on it! Both platforms had trains stationed!

Enter mass confusion.

The funny thing to me was that everyone was:

1. Silent
2. Looking around, not at each other, but back and forth between the screens by platforms 9 & 10
3. Full of a pained expression

Then, someone at the front of the line started walking forward. Everyone else followed in clumps.

When the person in front veered right, so did the herd. When the person in front turned around, the group aped.

Hilarious. Everyone was traveling for Thanksgiving, but apparently everyone left their brains at home.

Finally, after standing around for about 7 minutes, one person loaded onto the train on track 10. Everyone else decided, good idea, I’ll do the same.

We get onto the train and hear an announcement that the train is delayed. Nice. It’s a good thing this week isn’t, oh I don’t know, THE BUSIEST TRAVEL WEEK IN ALL OF AMERICA!

Ah, the train is moving now. Maybe I’ll post more later.

Happy Thanksgiving everybody!

If you’re walking in my direction in an outfit that is more offensive than distasteful, please get away from me. If you are wearing a beret with said outfit, I will be getting away from you. Pronto.

It’s like Carson from Queer Eye For The Straight Guy said, “If you’re wearing a jean top DO NOT match with like-colored jean pants.”

He also said, with regards to which buttons to button on a men’s 3 button suit jacket, “Sometimes, always, never.”

That Carson. He was full of tips. I’m not even a straight man with no sense of style and I found his advice helpful.

I wonder where he is these days…

What was I doing again?

Oh right, I was complaining about poor taste in outfittery (I refuse to use the word fashion here.).

…

Socks with sandals? That’s for another day.

I don't look like this, but you get the idea.

I did get some compliments from my Zumba instructor, but that’s likely because he wanted to start a conversation about if I really like women. In that case, he might not be so interested anymore. Who am I kidding? He’d probably be more interested if the shirt applied to me.

The problem was, I’d been sick all week and this was my first chance to workout. I went to a class with a new instructor and told her that I’d been sick, so I was going to take it easy on the cardio. She said she understood and the class began.

She came up to me multiple times to tell me she liked my pants (and the zipper pocket, conveniently located in the rear), she liked my form (read: squats), she wanted me to flatten my back out more (okay I guess that’s a reasonable thing for an instructor to say), she wanted to show me a modified version so that I wouldn’t push too hard, etc.

Then, at the end of class, we all cleaned up our steps and weights and started to leave. She went to the door of the class to appear as if she were looking at the class schedule. She waited there until it looked like I was walking over and then suddenly had to run back into the class to get something. Usually I say thank you to the instructors post-class, so I did, but after I thanked her there was this awkward lingering where she said, “Hey, yeah, sure, of course…see you soon?”

To which I pretended to not hear as a question and awkwardly slinked out of the room.

Why can’t I make a political statement without being disturbed during my workout?

I suppose that’s a stupid question. A shirt like that does open one up to being hit on.

It should be noted that “I Just Wanna Live” was playing during lateral raises.

Click here to watch the music video.

It made me laugh even in my sick, viral infection-ed state.

“Hello?”
“Don’t talk to it!”

You can watch more of the faux PSA ads here.

Jackson Katz’s post is based around Lisa McMahon’s Senate bid–I, however, am focused on the actual show.

I am so horrified, angry, upset, and disturbed. I feel like I supported this show, this enterprise, by being my father’s daughter and through his work promoting WWE. My god. My women’s studies professors would be reeling right now.

Watch it, but be aware there is a great deal of violence against women in various forms. (sexual degradation, humiliation, physical and psychological abuse)

I agree that the most shocking part of all of this is that the seemingly “normal” young men in the background are cheering and holding their privates. How did this slip under my radar?!