I feel like we’ve posted a lot of boob pillows. But these are different. They’re extra lurid because they’re wearing stripper bras, being felt-up by Asian teens and hitting the Moscow club scene in chauffeured Euro-vans.

Plus, this particular pillow is also available in “Justin Timberlake.”

If I wanted an internet meme stitched on a pillow, I’d skip the double rainbow and demand Antoine Dodson. The rainbows are nice and all, but are they gonna protect you while they’re rapin’ errbody out here? I don’t think so. With Antoine under your noggin and your kids, wife and husband securely hidden in the panic room or corpse hatch, you’re free to sleep peacefully. Didn’t you ever wonder why “dream” rhymes with “meme?” Yeah…maybe you should have.

Well, today is our office cube crawl so I’m too busy preparing get drunk to write a real post. Instead, here is a painting that captures, verbatim, how we Texas girls do it up right round these parts. Enjoy the rest of your dumb day, y’all. Yeehaw!

I bet the two BO-reeking hippies sitting next to me on the plane right now would just love this pillow couch. They’re both piled up into the kind of steaming, pretzel-shaped, bile-summoning sleep heap that only people with tapestry wraps, birkenstocks and beards can achieve. I hate them so much that I hope they’re reading this as I type it. Hey, space-wasters! Can I call you Sequoia and Chrysalis? I bet I can. Please barter your handmade dreamcatchers for this couch so that you can sleep like normal people for ten minutes before I smother you with enough pillows to choke a recycled Vegan horse.

This chair is supposed to be a Celtic knot, but they must mean a Celtic stomach knot. Because the model’s “Pepto, stat” pose doesn’t dispel the obvious: it looks like giant prolapsed intestines.

(I double dog dare you to do a Google image search for “prolapsed.” Hell, just click this link. While you do that, I’ll  be over here dry-heaving and gouging out my own eyeballs.)

via Catrina Murray, who inadvertently ruined my life.

The next time you have a night so wild you’re literally swinging from the chandelier, be proactive. Make it a Light Mi from designer Miriam Zink. It’s made of hangers. So, you get your rocks off and save yourself that inconvenient trip to the back alley. Because that’s where you can always be sure to find extra hangers in the recycle bin. You know, for all the stuff you bought on your drunk shopping spree? I’m talking about Frugan Living, here. What did you think I was talking about?

Via

Help me out here. I’m trying to think of occasions that would warrant the use of a remote-control light switch. So far all I’ve come up with is that you’re sitting on the toilet taking a dump and you can’t get up because you’re not ready to pinch-off, but you need to turn the lights out because you were going to summon Bloody Mary and show her what kind of poop a big boy makes. That happens a lot, right?

PS – If you have to plug the lamp into this special box for the remote to work, this is pretty much a wash laziness-wise.

Ellen LaVeyra thinks Butt Stools look like salt and pepper shakers. They do, and that’s exactly why I don’t need them: because my ass already has mad flava. So do the ends of my fingers. They taste like Cheetos and ear wax.

What do you get when you combine the Wizard of Oz, a pieta, and a couple of American Apparel employees? A chance for me to casually throw around my knowledge of the word “pieta.” Which you’re about to Google because you’re stupid.

God, I love being me.

Mary, Jesus and Joseph

via It’s Nice That

If laughter is the best medicine, then this blog is Children’s Grape Dimetapp: you think it’s gonna be kind of sweet, but when we force it down your throat it makes you gag, then cry, then puke until you can’t breathe.

BUMPER CARS!

via the Twitter of Incredible Things