Fucksters & Self -Titled

The Fucksters

are Anna A. Spades & Tuppence: Brilliant, funny, impressive vocabularies, and lovely, left-leaning Aussie lassies. When I close my eyes and imagine these teenage girls (doubtful) I picture that they are unbelievably... well-groomed and both of them are lying in bed together furiously, watching BBC Political News as they gently fondle their... New York Times crossword puzzles. All while sucking... their lips in pouty political disapproval at the state of world affairs. Plus I envision that they're both spanking... each other with riding crops. Sorry. But it's totally cool because I'm, like, 16 years old, too. Or I have the intellectual interests of a sixteen year-old boy.


Next is something stolen* without any permission at all from Self - Titled.


Dan and Lisa

This is your brain on drugs.

You know that Sopranos episode where Christopher is all doped up and he passes out on top of Adriana's dog and kills it? If you're boyfriend is not nodding off on your lap dog, he will be suffocating your hedgehog to death. The hedgehog will be foaming at the mouth, and he will blame it on you. She must have gotten into your valium, he'll say. The hedgehog will die. You'll scream at each other. Deep down he will know it was his fault. He will be wracked with guilt. He will refuse to dispose of her in the dumpster. You can understand that. When you were little you buried goldfish and anoles in your back yard. But you never cremated a hedgehog. Kids, this is what drugs will do to your life. You will end up sitting in the parking lot, cremating your hedgehog on a $20 grill from Walmart. It will take about 5 hours. You might fall asleep against the tire of someone's car for a little while. Your crack whore boyfriend will wake you up and tell you that you are not being respectful of the spirit of your hedgehog that he killed. It will smell terrible. By the time she is reduced to ashes, it will be morning. As you walk to the river to dump the ashes, all the fresh faced students will be on their way to class. With their backpacks and laptops. And you'll look strung out, carrying a thermos of cremated hedgehog. When your boyfriend leans over to dump the ashes into the river he will trip, spilling the remains all over his shirt, and while later it will be fucking hilarious, at that moment it will be tragic. And you will swear that you will never tell anyone about this. Except later you will tell your best friend and she will write about it on her blog.

If I were still in college going through my phase of dating "eccentric" women in a failed effort to magically heal them and in the process somehow make my mother love me more, I would be madly in love with this girl. She would chain smoke, treat me like garbage and talk about death, her love of eyepatches and the rappers she'd most like to fuck, while I tried to spoon her. Plus, Self-Titled looks a lot like a girl I had my first and only one night stand with and that girl* was a dancer. If you haven't dated a dancer I highly recommend it. Yes, they can do that thing your friend's older brother Kevin told you about at that party. It's nice.

Now go to both the sites and praise them as brainy and eccentric blog divas. Feed them peeled grapes and give them foot massages.



* I think she'd respect that sort of behavior.