Dear Lil’ Kim:

I heard you turned 34. Again.

Sorry. That was mean. However, I’m pretty sure you were 34 last year, too. Don’t you think I can count? Just let it go. MILFs are hot right now. Ride the wave.

Anyway, I was planning to write and wish you a happy birthday, but then I stumbled across this photo. Please take a look at it:

I hope you’re as concerned as I am. Because when I saw it, I gasped. Seriously: gasped. I was all, like, honeychild, what’s up with all this fakeness, this body mod? You look like a press-on nail.

For starters, you’ve straightened your hair and bleached it to chicken-fat yellow. Or maybe you’re sporting a weave, which means you’re wearing (a) someone else’s hair or (b) a petroleum byproduct. Either way: if you’re trying to impersonate the checkout girl at my local Walgreens, mission accomplished. Classy.

In the eye area, I see that some ketamine-friendly drag queen has gone tweezer-happy on your brows. Those ginormous artificial lashes are millimeters away from Liza territory, and…are you sporting blue contacts? Lady, please, what is this, 1997? Just because someone still makes them doesn’t mean you should still wear them.

Moving on.

The lips. Lordy, those lips. Need I remind you of the plastic surgery disaster known as Mickey Rourke? Let me refresh your memory: old Mickey. New Mickey. Old Mickey. New Mickey. Old. New. Now, side-by-side. The slope you are on is slippery, and you are slathering it with bacon grease every time you visit the dermatologist.

The boobs. Okay, I’ve seen worse, but yours are still kinda like two grapefruits in dress socks. Which is making me hungry for breakfast, even though I hate breakfast. (Although I dig the special serrated spoons they give you at restaurants. That almost makes up for the fact that grapefruit tastes like a bowl of lizard shit, with a hint of citrus.)

As for the abs: look, I know that you did 366 days in the slammer, and I know you probably butched out and did a lot of weight-training so you could keep your bitches in line, but that was years ago. If I’m wrong, and it you’re still maintaining that gym routine, props to you, but from where I’m sitting, it looks like someone got an airbrush for xmas.

Finally, your skin. Most people aren’t genetically inclined to sparkle, sweetcheeks. Yes, you could be wearing body makeup, but I wouldn’t be surprised to hear that you’d had your DNA adjusted so your pores ooze glitter instead of sweat. I’m sorry to think that way, but I have no choice.

I can’t see your teeth, but I’m guessing they’re real–I mean, you’ve lived a long life, but you’re still a little young for dentures. As for your vagina, reports vary, but whatever. Live your life.

One final suggestion before I go: in addition to the epidermal warfare you’ve got brewing from the waist up, I also have a problem with your name. Specifically, the “Lil'” part. Don’t you think it’s time you became just “Kim”? Or possibly “Mid’l-Aged Kim”? Or, if you’re into alliteration, “Cougar Kim”? There are a lot of possibilities. Pick one. Because your boobs may only be ten years old, but you’re 34. At least.

Happy birthday,
Richard

I do not care if Bruno is good for the gays. You know what is good for the gays? A nice dinner at a very expensive restaurant with exceptional service and a dessert on the house, followed by, most likely at a different location, some good old-fashioned ass-fucking.

—Choire at TheAwl

[via If Charlie Parker Was a Gunslinger]

I’m not sure how I missed this. I’m not sure what it means. Although I’m pretty sure it doesn’t mean anything, other than that dude eats lunch standing up, and he keeps a really clean kitchen. But maybe there’s a subplot I’m missing?

[from CRTL+W33D, again]

[“Spirit squad kiss le cul de hhh” via CRTL+W33D]

The latest project from adorable typenerd Sparky:

So, what are you waiting for? Xmas?

Just as a tiny update to yesterday’s post:

Jefferson authorities probing ammonia leak on West Bank.

So I guess containment of noxious chemical fumes really isn’t a concern in these situations. Well, not for the Port, anyway.

Dear Port of New Orleans:

As much as we love you, we feel obligated to point out that articles like this one from the Times-Picayune probably aren’t the best way to inspire confidence in the public–especially when that public is already skeptical of your plan to sandwich an ammonia-filled industrial wonderland between two of Louisiana’s most important historic neighborhoods, the French Quarter and the Faubourg Marigny. Skim the first couple of paragraphs, and let us know if you can see the problem here:

Faubourg Marigny and French Quarter residents are concerned that the ammonia used to refrigerate a proposed cold-storage warehouse on the Gov. Nicholls Street Wharf will pose a public health risk, but experts say the chance of a chemical leak is slim if proper safety measures are in place.

“You can stop most of these incidents before they have a chance to be a major challenge if you have the right equipment and personnel,” said Gary Smith, president and founder of the Ammonia Safety Training Institute in Washington, D.C. “If it’s just cold storage, the ammonia stays in the refrigeration if good prevention habits are in place.” [Emphasis totally mine]

–plenty more ifs, ands, and buts in the full article at NOLA.com

Statements like that are kinda like saying, “No, hurricanes aren’t a problem for New Orleans, if the levees hold, and if federal, state, and city governments are prepared, and if the city’s evacuation strategy works like a charm. You know, if all that’s good, then we should be fine. Probably.” Do you see what I’m doing there? Right.

And a quick reminder: those of us who live here aren’t opposed to your project, just its location. Heck, your puppet minion buddy Jindal just shaved bejillions of bucks from higher ed, mental hospitals, and the like–surely he can throw a few at the Cold Storage project so it can move downriver just a tad? That would be the right thing to do, karmically speaking. (NB: Confused by karma? Ask Bobby.)

Anyway, thanks for listening. You were listening, weren’t you? …Hello?

I suppose we all knew this was coming. We’ll see if they can improve McCarthy’s ending. It can’t get any worse.

[via Jennie]