Pumas shoot crepe paper garlands out of their eyes because they’re not just carnivores… they’re also carnivals.

His biggest crime? Mom jeans.

I found this chair on ffffound. It was re-blogged from a blog called “this isn’t happiness,” but as the proud owner of a trashcan full of these hangers (except in mauve, it was the 1990s, sue me) I assure you, finding a use for those fuckers is just about as happy as it gets.

Hey, I sure hate you,

Cuz you’re so lazy,

I’ve got your number:

You’re no Scorsese

I know for sure that

Your future’s hazy,

“Deep” thoughts and slumber,

You fucking baby

And all the other guys

Have advanced degrees

But you’re encumbered

By Art Star Crazies.

Have we talked about this Golden Rhino before? It’s kind of like the Golden Goose, but those aren’t eggs he lays. They’re dumps. That’s right, for $35 this thing will crap gold all over your Corian. Of course I’m a big fat liar and it totally won’t, but please know that in my mind — he just did.

Here are two things that will give you opposite boner:

1. I’m about to slather on some Vicks Vaporub.

2. This leaf sculpture is made entirely of human hair.

Turns out the Holy Spirit entering your body feels exactly like brain freeze.

Holy Wine popsicles via my badical brother.

And all this time I just thought “Labia Cakes” was a cute nickname from college…

via BuzzFeed and The Dirty Normal who thinks these are the work of Evil Cake Shop

If you don’t think you need a spray-painted green Kewpie Doll, then I ask you this — How exactly do you plan on making your boyfriend’s testicles shrivel?

Un-bitchy aside: There’s some pretty cool spray-painted shit in this shop so check it out.

Hello, internet, Urban Outfitters customers and world at large, I’m pleased to introduce today’s guest blogger: the reanimated corpse of Joan Crawford. Take it away, Joan!

No… more… mustaches. What are mustaches doing on my internet when I told you: no more mustaches EVER? I blog and blog ’till I’m half-dead, and I hear people saying, “She’s getting bitter.” And what do I get? Our fucking readers… who care as much about the filthy posts we give them as they care about me. ANSWER ME! I give you disturbing drygoods, and you treat them like they’re not worthy of hipsters. Mustaches, why? Why? READERS, GET OFF OF THIS BLOG. You read the most offensive blog in cyberspace and you don’t care if your posts are tainted by more mustaches! And YOUR blog looks like some two-dollar-an-ad templated layout on some two-bit hosting service like GoDaddy.com. NO MORE MUSTACHES EVER!!!

Man, what a C U Next Tuesday! Well, let’s all listen to her, shall we? The old broad just might be on to something.