Fuck Mondays

Let’s be frank, Mondays fucking suck. They can go fuck themselves. They can go take a flying fuck. They can go fuck off. Seriously, they fucking suck. And they really, really fucking suck in the doldrums of January. Ugh. January. It’s not December, with its promise of the holidays. It’s not the spring, with its flowers and showers. It’s not summer, with its summery summerness. And it’s not fall, with leaves showing off one last time. Nope, it’s January. Which fucking sucks. But you know what? We don’t have to just sit and take sucky Mondays in January. We can fight back. We can fight back the only way we can on a sucky Monday in January. By giving them a big, hearty fuck you. Like our friend M-Rod is doing.

Heidi KlumWell, it is Monday, so why not have a little Naked Lady as well?

Kristen StewartI feel like Kristen is always flipping us the bird, even when she isn’t.

Kaya ScodelarioThe middle finger is Effy Stonem’s permanent state of mind.

PinkShe somehow manages to be badass and adorable, all at once. I think it’s the overalls.

Paget BrewsterI’m only slightly distracted by the fact that the towel means she just got out of the shower.

Lucy LiuAlso slightly distracted, but this time by the freckles and hint of lower back.

Amy PoehlerYou always knew Amy would know how to expertly deploy the double bird.

Lily AllenWhereas this is the cutest double bird ever.

Joan JettAnd this, this is the sexiest double bird ever.

There, now don’t you feel better – for a Monday?

Just another Music Monday

My seemingly Sisyphean task of trying to make Mondays a little less miserable marches on. Today, we try music. Now, I’m no hipster music zealot. Nor do I own a pair of skinny jeans. But I do enjoy a ditty now and then. And I’ve particularly been enjoying these lately. OK, fine, I’ve also enjoyed this.

With that, DJ, drop the needle…or push the button…or whatever the hell it is they do these days.

The Cliks, “Dirty King”

Hot queers, surf guitar, hair flips. You’re welcome.

Peaches, “Talk To Me”

A Cousin It threesome? I would expect nothing less.

The Sounds, “No One Sleeps When I’m Awake”

And you thought IKEA was your favorite Swedish import.

Metric, “Help I’m Alive”

I would like to marry this song, or at very least go steady for an extended period of time.

Lily Allen, “Fuck You”

Cursing rendered utterly adorable.

Shakira, “She Wolf”

I am not sure the human body is supposed to bend this way. But I am sure I’m thankful it does.

So, give it up, what music have you been listening to lately to soothe the savage she beast?

What’s new, pussycat?

Well, file this under the category of “Things That Are Obvious.” I never noticed how many photographers thought it a genius idea to pose beautiful women with big cats – real or otherwise. I’ll give you a split-second to realize why. Big cats, large kitties, enormous puss… Yeah, now you’ve got it. Subtlety is, indeed, for pussies. Though, if taken to its ultimate and inevitable conclusion, all these photos could also be considered a metaphor for gay women. No, not for that reason. Get your heads out of the gutter, people. Instead it’s because we can identify. I mean, we are the original crazy cat ladies. Here kitty, kitty, indeed.

Christina AguileraChrist, it’s even pink.

Alicia SilverstoneI hate it when I wear the same thing to the photoshoot as the leopard.

Lily AllenJazz paws!

Chloe SevignyThe real Pussycat Doll.

And just in case you dog lovers were feeling left out, these are for you. At this point, the giving a dog a bone jokes just write themselves.

Kylie MinoguePlease, God, let this just be an post-Frisbee cigarette.

Julianne MooreNever mind the LOLcats, give this dog a cheezburger.

p.s. I’m just going to let this one speak for itself. I don’t even want to imagine what they’re a euphemism for.

The Wacky

Love makes you do the wacky. It makes us crazy. If Beyoncé and Patsy Cline sing it, so must it be. In honor of love in all its insane splendor this Valentine’s Day I bring you three of the wackiest things I’ve seen on the Interwebs this week. Seriously, this shit is weird. But, then, love is strange. Happy Valentine’s Day, lovebirds.

Because nothing says “be my Valentine” like swallowing your own hand. Oh Lily Allen, no. Just no.

Well ’ello governors. I know Amy Winehouse cleaned up at the Grammys, but I don’t think those puppies came in the gift basket.

Crazy in love. Crazy in concert. Enjoy.

Monday bits and pieces

Since it’s Monday and we’ve had a spate of good lesbian news recently (you know -- a little of this, a little of that) I thought I’d post something to celebrate and kick the week off right. But what to post? I pondered. I paced. I procrastinated. And then it came to me like headlights (that’ll be funnier in a second) through the night sky. Breasts! Plus Lily Allen has been getting all nippy lately, so it was perfect. The London lass made me “Smile” last week by giving her “girls” some extra exposure. First while on “Friday Night Project” a few weeks ago she flashed her third nipple to an appreciative crowd. What can I say, the girl gives good nubbin. Then, photos of an au naturel Lily vacationing in Thailand surfaced (also funnier in a second). And since I know you’re all dirty little monkeys, here is the NSFW version. Hello, ladies. My, aren’t we pert today? Happy Monday, indeed.

Hail, Britannia

Call it a case of serious Cool Britannia envy, but lately all I’ve been listening to are lovely London lasses. These days the most brash, most fun and most neo-feminist performers out there aren’t sassy yanks (sorry Pink, I know you’re trying to hold up your end), but outspoken Brits. Lasses like Amy Winehouse, Lily Allen and Lady Sovereign. Of course, this isn’t news to their fellow Englishmen and woman, or most Europeans. But stateside, many people are just catching on to these talents. What sets them apart from so many American stars is that while they party hard and look sexy (well, Sovereign looks butch, but lots of people find that sexy), they seem in control of their lives and images. OK, with all the gossip and reports about Winehouse, perhaps she should say “Yes, yes, yes” to that rehab stint.

Still, unlike the Britneys, Linsdays and Parises of the States, these women may be hot messes, but never victims. And, best of all, they aren’t manufactured products made by mega corporations for mass consumption (paging Jessica Simpson, Jessica Simpson, please use the white courtesy phone).You’ve got to love that. Plus, these birds can really sing.

Knock me out

What rock have I been living under the past year? Apparently a big, heavy, sound-proof rock, because I was just floored by Lily Allen. Sure, I’d heard her name tossed about as a new, hot, cute, young thing to watch. But I swatted all the chatter away like hype-infected tsetse flies. Be gone with you. Buzz about me no more. Wow, was I wrong. I just streamed the album at AOL and bring back those buzzing buggers. She is spunky. She is sassy. She is all those other complimentary “s” adjectives. Like her fellow pint-sized British import, Lady Sovereign, Lily brings in da noise, da funk and da fun. Ladies, let’s declare “Knock ‘Em Out” our official going out anthem, shall we? And no you can't have my number. “Why?” Because I've lost my phone. Brilliantly cheeky.

UPDATE: If you’re still not convinced, catch Lily on SNL this weekend. Seeing is believing.