latest signs from The Fall...

long time, people. don't spit up your coffee/beverage of choice:

• who doesn't love Arizona, microcosm and flashpoint of Empire? well, us--but, still, welcome to your new Brady backyard:

  “It’s easier to have fake grass,” Mr. Hague said, looking over his deep green, perfectly trimmed yard. “You don’t have to worry about it. It doesn’t fade.”

• FOMO is fuckin' funny--especially when you have FOGO:

  My problem is emblematic of the digital era. It’s known as FOMO, or "fear of missing out," and refers to the blend of anxiety, inadequacy and irritation that can flare up while skimming social media like Facebook, Twitter, Foursquare and Instagram.

  
  

the angel of meat

we need to start saving up for some fine-ass art. or maybe we can strike it rich and be a wealthy patron.

either way--"paintings about children, god, and USDA grade A beef"--this brilliant fellow must surely be a Girthy reader:


and goes well with steak.

she walked into my office like a centipede with 98 missing legs

metaphorically speaking, these are like excellent analogies.

as discuss!

look da fuck out, lilly--it's a muthafuckin' flyin' BIDEMIC!

life is a mystery.

every one must stand alone.

i hear you call my name...

and it is to watch this movie:



fave quotage:

Evan Husney, who now works for the independent distributor Severin Films, was also at Sundance in 2009, where he spotted Mr. Nguyen driving a beat-up sport utility vehicle decorated with a prop eagle and fake blood, and blaring bird noises from its stereo.

“On the side of his car,” Mr. Husney said, “he had spelled the name of his own movie wrong. He had spelled it ‘Bidemic,’ without the R.”

breaking the fourth wall with facebook

'nuff said...

whiskeyfire is still fucking brilliant

give the governor 'harrumph':

If you can't get Antonin Fucking Scalia to agree with you about how you're an oppressed Catholic in modern America, give it the fuck up, would be my advice.

such good stuff.

dred scott's got nothin' on me, muthafuckaz

it's the times like these that make you stop and sadly admit that you've wasted your life by not doing... things like this:



depressing.

spring fever with the 'so-called regulars'

in the footer lieth the brilliance:

The Mets sent only three so-called regular players to face the Braves, including first baseman Daniel Murphy, catcher Rod Barajas and center fielder Angel Pagan, and lost, 9-5, while committing four errors.

Eddie Kunz gave up four runs in a third of an inning, so his earned run average is 108.00.

do the other backup catchers get insulted by this sort of thing?

the final word: tough sheet, losers

and... it's ovah.

the winner of the golden medal goes to SWEDENLAND! silver (or first loser) to CANADIA! and copper to CHINA. enjoy your penguin job, suissers.

now, as is our editorial privilege here at girthy, we bring you a direct cut/paste from the first (and apparently only) comment of our winning contestant, from yesterday's thread:

I felt the time was right to make my one and only appearance on this blog as I graciously accept my team's gold medal win. Please know, I appreciated your efforts during these Olympic games--alas, you all fell beneath the mighty Swedish hammer.

Sweden has contributed much to the world: ABBA, meatballs, Ace of Base, those yummy gummy fish. You might not be aware of this, but they are also the inventors of dynamite...or as I like to call her, Anette Norberg.

I salute you, worthy competitors, and await your virtual obeisance.

Betala bitches!
The Hammer

yeah.

so, on that immaculate grace note, see you fuckers in four years (when we also begin DEATH POOL coverage of women's biathlon) JUNE--for MUTHAFUCKIN' WORLD CUP FOOTBALLIN' ACTION FROM APARTHEID-LAND!

be girthy...