Liberated Negative Space o’ the Day: Beware of the Dog edition

Like, sometimes I think he thinks he is being funny, but it’s just hurtful.

I often call a warning out to someone about to pet my nameless cat: “Look out!” Almost always they say, “Why?” or “How come?” Um, why do you think, you silly upbeat moron? “Look out! — he’s drunk?” or “Look out! — he hits on babies?” Perhaps, “Look out — he likes to dance but he’s a horrible dipper!”

What the hell do you think, “look out” for? He attacks people.

He is a biter with no name who brooks no petting and will dig his claws into your arm and give tearing off your hand his all, purring to beat the band the entire time. I’ve had him eleven years and I theorize that he purrs loudest when he is “getting” someone because it turns him on to defy expectations and fight the Man.

I love my cat. When he dies it is going to fucking destroy me. I’m so weak for loving a cat. But I do. That little guy is my soulmate.

Sam Haskins Month, Day 11: Cowboy Kate, “One Dark Blue Night” edition

Daily Batman: Boo.

I never thought I’d make this remark about anything Catwoman-related, and I used to be a fan of her music until right now, but in looking at this picture of Christina Aguilera as Catwoman in a music video or some shit, I can only say,

“Boo. You whore.”

Today’s project: NSFW November — The Math.

Today I am forcing myself to stop watching badly dubbed Italian horror movies and tackle the long-overdue compilation of stats on last month’s playmates. Then I’m hoping to turn them into some fun graphs and factoid type blurbs.

I’d like to be able to trendspot together, but I’m having trouble thinking of trends that go deeper than the surface appearance. Hmm. So far I have some basic obvious characteristics like hair/eye color, photographer of the centerfold, age, etc., but I’d like to come up with some more fun categories.

If you think of any, give me a holler. In the meanwhile, stay tuned!

top, Donna Edmondson, Miss November 1986 (The Virgin); Janet Lupo, Miss November 1975 (The HELLA Stacked Jersey Girl); bottom, Monica Tidwell, 1973 (The Redheaded Nature Girl).

Raise your hand if you relentlessly and somewhat fetishistically stereotype your own gender.