I’m told the proper term is “sinosexual”.
Mark Duffy from BuzzFeed describes this commercial really well:
Before Clean and Dry intimate wash:
Sad “Stairway to Heaven”-ish acoustic guitar. Dirty, smelly. dark coochie. Disinterested man.After Clean and Dry intimate wash:
Upbeat, crappy canned pop music. Clean, “fairer” vertical smile. Make Him Late For Work jungle sex.
Here’s this video’s caption on YouTube:
Designed to address the problems women face in their private parts, Clean and Dry Intimate Wash offers protection, fairness and freshness. To be used while showering, its special pH-balanced formula cleans and protects the affected area, and even makes the skin fairer. Life for women will now be fresher, cleaner, fairer! Freshness Jo Nikhare!
Vaginal cleansing products are generally regarded by the medical establishment as a bad idea, and a product that also lightens it can’t be good either.
“Call…the…police…”
Over at the Pets Lady blog are thirteen of the creepiest, saddest and downright most disturbing family photos featuring the Easter Bunny. I’ve posted my two favourites here; the rest are over on her blog. Enjoy!
“This costume shames us both.”
Categories
Absolutely No Ball Playing Allowed
I’m quite relieved that I’m not the only person who does this whenever he sees this sign.
I put on TRON (the original 1982 film) as background noise last night. I first saw it in the theatre in 1983, shortly before I got my first computer, an Apple //e. I don’t think I’ve seen the film since 1998, when I was working at the two-man consultancy Datapanik with my friend Adam Smith. We had it on in the background when we were speccing out the program we were working on — a database of every mall in America — and we got the codename for it from one of the characters in the movie: CLU.
One of the bits in the movie that always makes me laugh is the outfit that the I/O Tower Guardian wore, especially the hat. There’s something…papal…about it:
Watching TRON took me back to those days in 1998 when we worked on Project CLU. For a good eight months, I practically lived in Adam’s house, which he shared with his girlfriend Nancy, and which also functioned as Datapanik’s offices. It was a three-bedroom apartment in a brownstone-like building on St. George Street just south of Dupont. Adam worked his office (the smallest bedroom) and I worked (and often slept in) the guest bedroom, where I cranked out code on my trusty Toshiba laptop, with a processor racing away at 233 MHz and packed to the gills with a then-huge 96 MB of RAM:
…and our test machine was a PC on loan from my friend Rob:
We worked long and hard on this project, and naturally, we had to slip an “Easter Egg” into the program before it shipped (in fact, I don’t think I’ve ever shipped a desktop application that didn’t have some kind of Easter Egg). The right combination of pressed keys and a mouse click on one spot of the “About” window would reveal this photo featuring me, Adam and his cat, Mooks:
