Posts Tagged ‘puke’

Musician fail

I’d like to re-introduce you to a man called Fred Durst. You may remember him wearing a red cap, bleating away as the lead singer of the phenomenally awful band, Limp Bizkit. Or maybe you remember him as the man who got pwned by Britney Spears*.

Well, in the recent inaugural annual traditional “Iwilldothatformoney Awards for Dumbasses and Numpties”, we bestowed upon Mr Durst the honour of Worst Ever Guitar Solo Ever.

An honorary achievement award was also given out to every member of the audience who had actually paid money to hear it.

You can watch his stunning effort to single-handedly destroy the eardrums of 1,258 people behind the cut.

Warning: this video might make you vomit a little bit in your mouth.

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Karl Lagerfeld: the definition of ego

We on the IWDTFM team are often asked, “Why don’t you all become models?”. It’s a valid question, given how good looking we all are. But I have a secret: I don’t understand the fashion industry. What it is, what it does, and why the hell anyone would want to be a part of it.

I’m writing this because I read Kate’s article about the New Zealand fashion week, and – like Kate – I was impressed that a country that has yet to pave its streets even has a fashion week. Wales doesn’t, although this could be due to the fact that large numbers of the Welsh population have yet to be introduced to clothes.

Not that the fashion industry is particularly concerned with clothes. They don’t produce things that you can wear. They produce monstrosities of design, much like a five-year-old with access to a large supply of Play-Doh might.

What really confuses me about the fashion industry is that so many people seem to want to break into it. Models, fashion designers, stylists, hairdressers… never mind that the industry seems to be a mix of sweat shops and the Third Reich, it’s honestly an industry that people marry footballers to get into. On your average thirteen-year-old girl’s list of “Things I Want To Be When I Grow Up”, the desirability of jobs in the fashion industry is probably only second to whatever the hell it is Tara Parker-Tomkinson did to get famous.

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Don't worry! Just mash Ctrl+Alt+Del twice if you're in a hurry...

Microsoft can’t be arsed to take Windows 7 to exhibitions or expos this year. Instead they encourage their beta testers to invite everyone to their house and have a Windows 7 themed party.

The hammyness is only occluded by the strained range of genders, ethnicities and age groups on display here. The idea is to gather the most unlikely bunch of “friends” on the planet, and instead of playing Ring of Fire, Spin the Bottle or Rude Guess Who? let’s exchange lessons in desktop customisation and taskbar organisation. WOOHOO SPRING BREAK!

“We’ve all had a head start” gushes the soccer-mom typecast in the promo.

“You may want to begin installing Windows 7 a few days in advance” the plaid shirt and thick-glasses clad barely palatable techie guy meaningfully warns us.

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Get your Guevara novelty licence from the King of Swords amd pretend you're a tyrannical despot! HAHA! Cool! Do these kids think he's some kind of classic old cartoon character worthy of praise? Christ.

The image of massive fascist Ernesto Ché Guevara is absolutely fucking everywhere. A million t-shirts depicting him are sold in Camden every second, typically to the kind of grungy kid who stands around smoking and looking moody. I posit that they know little to nothing of this man’s life and works. These kids are probably alienated by their peers for being honest, tolerant and non-judgmental.

Now it’s 2009, and his visage is a global insignia, representing counter-culture and rebellion and is reproduced in many, if not all media.

But what about all the other shit he got up to, like stringing up gays?

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haha, my eyelash extensions cost more than your mortgage!

I think it’s about time we had another scathing blog post! About celebrities! Especially ones with too much money. And no sense. And this time, I’m talking about… Mariah Carey. A vapid, boring, massively inflated ego on legs.

I never used to care much about Mariah Carey. She was just some long legged songstress who came across like she was trying too hard. I have to admit, her voice is spectacular. To be perfectly honest to the point of embarrassment, I sometimes get goosebumps when I hear her belt out a song.

Problem is, that amazing voice is inextricably attached to an attention-seeking balloon-headed nonny.

I suppose it’s common knowledge she’s some kind of megalomaniac, preening diva. I mean, I knew that – although I never knew how much was truth and how much was rumour mill. But then I found out the brutal reality when I happened to stumble across an episode of E! True Hollywood My One Week in Hell with a Diva Story, or something like that. I promptly threw up a little bit. And then I started to hate Ms Carey, in that way you can somehow hate someone you have never ever met — and hope never ever to meet. The woman is insane. It was such a shock to see an actual live person be such a prize dickhead.
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Not a good look, but it suits him.

Western capitalism is a well-maintained perpetual motion machine. Its various cogs and gears are oiled regularly with the blood and tears of the workforce. However, the machine requires maintenance, and parts must be replaced or cleaned.

And then there are parts that don’t do anything at all: the gall bladders of machinery. They might not be moving parts or they might perform an auxiliary role in the whole system, but their mere presence at a reduced or non-existent level of functionality means other parts must work harder and faster to compensate.

Freegans are the ultimate example of this. They smugly condemn us rat-racers as crazy. These people freely admit to finding nourishment in the discarded produce of society.

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Clearly she is not as original as she makes out - the Yeti is minutes ahead of her

I am still surprised and throw up in my mouth a little bit every time I think of Lady GaGa, and how she even penetrated mainstream music.

When “Just Dance” was getting air play and the odd mention in tabloid columns, Lady GaGa was namedropped, quickly followed by “the electro queen of 2009” or “the electro pop diva”, I’m pretty sure no-one linked the peroxide eccentric with the lasery tripe of “Just Dance”. I was excited and greatly anticipated the arrival of electro in the mainstream UK music circuit. I would be chuffed if electro started blaring out when my tone-deaf partner had Capital FM on in the car.

My enthusiasm was deluded. This goddamn bitch is not only not producing electro, but really trite R&B. Any wonder I didn’t connect the name to the tune.
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