Stuff That Makes A Gay Heart Weep

Scary Ebay Items

Creepy Croc Pumps

I bet they get what they want in the boardroom!

 

 

Doll Flowers

I'm scared just looking at the picture. I just know Marie Osmond is behind this horror bouquet!

 

 

 

A Redneck Mailbox

 

A Redneck Thanksgiving

Happy Thanksgiving! May all your dinner tables be clear of KFC and bud!

 

Bad Halloween Costume Choices

If you don't know what this is, you're better off.

 Happy Halloween!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
 

 

Vending Machine Tattoos

 I can hear Kat Von D's weeping all the way from WeHo.

 

Too Much Love For Chanel

 
A weeping Coco just rolled over in her grave. 

 
The L must be up his ass.

 

The Miss Airport Calendar

You gotta weep an LOL over this one! Miss Airport is quite the vixen! Could we be seeing a Mr. Airport next?

Jessica Simpson's flipped out Twitter Fail

 

Leave it to Buffalo Wing Queen Jessica Simpson to tweet something that was supposed to be a joke in her blond head but she never clarified it to the rest of the world.

Last month she tweeted: "Scuba gear coming soon for @jscollection heels for every occasion ;)" and posted these wacky pics of flipper heels!  As expected, the fashion blog world went into a frenzy. I was all prepared to start weeping as well until I dug a little deeper and found the whole thing was one big Jess Joke. 

Considering she does design shoes and you have Lady Ga Ga and Nikki Minaj wearing all kinds of weird shit, it really isn't that surprising to see these wacky scuba shoes. The shoes in these pics were actually created by a Belgian artist named Paul Schietekat for an exhibit in 2006.

But for this weepy tweet twat, Jessica should be punished! I think she should have to wear a breath apparatus hat and a pair of the flipper heels while being sentenced to 20 laps down a slippery catwalk.

Watch what you tweet Jess!

 

Extreme Dog Grooming

Dogs looking like roosters, tigers, and Elvis? WTF? Those poor painted poodles! While entertaining to watch, the weep factor is off the canine charts. If Fluffy could speak she'd most likely say: Really???? You're going to make me look like a breakfast buffet? Get this shit off of me NOW and get me a treat for my suffering!

 

Caged Easter Bunnies

 
So who was the dumbass that thought the Animal Testing Cage look would be a perfect Easter novelty for kids? WTF???? Showing up in stores several years ago, these pathetic caged Easter bunnies even look sad - like they are pleading for help: "Save me, I don't want to eat the plastic carrot injected with foot cream!" Every time I see one my gay heart weeps, wanting to engage my hands in tearing apart the cage and setting the fake Easter bunny free. It should be allowed to live a full Easter bunny novelty life by having its ears and eyes torn off by a hellspawn child and eventually becoming the chew toy of a dog or cat.

 

SINGING IN[DOORS] THE RAIN

 

By Benjamin Kissell

What makes a Gay Heart Weep like an Extrme Home Makeover candidate with [closet-case] Ty Pennington's arms wrapped around his shoulders? Why, it's the need for home rennovation or repair - simple words which can strike a cold, dread fear into a Gay Heart's ... uhm, gay heart.

Now, don't get me wrong - many a Gay Heart is more than proficient in working power tools [outside of the bedroom at that] - but, we ALL know that any home repair project will take 2-10 times longer than estimated and make everyone involved suffer like a Rebecca Black music video [and if you don't get that reference, be oh-so-very glad].

After my adventures with the Panic[bath]Room in LA, you'd think I'd have had my fill of bathroom hi-jinks. Which is why this completely caught me off-guard yesterday morning.

........................

 

Still groggy [read: late night with editing and reading british chick lit with a Guinness chaser], I shuffle into my shared bathroom - my roommate's cat nipping at my fuzzy-pink house slippers - at an unGodly hour [okay, so it was 9am, potato/po-tah-to] still in my pajamas. Exhausted, the 3 foot walk from my bedroom door to the bathroom door is interminable.

With the cat solidly placing herself on my foot - belly up, demanding love and rubs - I nudge the door open and am greeted by the softly filtered light through the blinds. My morning ablutions wait for no man and soon I am sitting on the [closed, I'm not that crass] toilet letting my morning face-wash clear my pores when I hear a strange sound ...

#plunk

This piques my interest, but not enough to open my eyes. Soon, it is joined by a second and third ...

#plunk - plunk

By the time I'm washing my face-wash off in the sink the quiet plunk has almost started its own band. I pop open my eyes ... and see nothing amiss. Reaching for the handtowel I dry myself off and tilt my head backwards.

#plunk-thunk-blecht-FUCK

That? Was the sound of a steady stream of water pouring straight down in a series of "small" drips on my face from THE CEILING. Ceiling water in a bathroom translates to toilet-pipe water. Toilet-pipe water just fell all over my Just. Washed. Face.

Repressing the urge to scream [in a totally butch and manly way, of course], run and hide under the covers muttering "PlagueAin'tGonnaGetMe", I frantically wash my face in the sink until my face is sore - I shall be clean.

Washing my face almost-raw, I'm trembling with unease. Looking in the mirror, my eye catches onto something: what appears to be a large bubble directly over the shower-curtain bar.

Slowly, I turn. [Cue the horror-movie theme music.]

The bubble? Is the bowed-out drop-ceiling tile.

Being the smart, college-educated and well-read person brimming with common-sense I do what anyone with 2 functioning brain-cells wouldn't do ... I poke it with my fingertip.

The ensuing deluge of toilet-pipe-water streaming down and loud string of expletives were seen coming by anyone-other-than-me a mile away.

The next hour found me scoured [again], dressed nicely and calmly down at the apartment complex' main office where I politely [I know, I'm surprised, too] told the owners about my little "bathroom ceiling troubles". Being the efficient and on-the-ball people that they are [I'm not being sarcastic, for once] they promise to deal with it and by the time I got home from my erranding, I was greeted by this:

 

They promise the job (something to do with replacing 3 major pipes) will be done in 2-4 days. Who's betting on 2-4 weeks?

Photoshopped Holiday Strippers

 
Happy St. Patrick's Day. May you find your pot of gold and rainbow.

 

Ugly Sculptures In Front of Office Buildings

 
Why is it so many office buildings end up with atrocious sculptures in their courtyards? When they commission these artists and pay them big bucks, do they have any idea they will end up with something that looks like a reject from an alien invasion movie?

This hideous installation is in Beverly Hills of all places! On the corner of Wilshire Blvd. and Beverly Dr, I gag and weep every time I see it because it's right in front of my bank and I'm forced to walked by the twisted, revolting heap that was no doubt created by a blow torch happy artist who raided a scrap metal yard and then went in search of a discontinued paint color on sale at Home Depot.

An interesting fact about about this particular weepy sculpture is that Ron Howard and Brian Grazer's production offices are in that building. How could you allow that to happen Ron? You make amazing films and shows and right at your doorway sits an heinous eyesore that should be hauled off to the dump. 

 
While taking the pics, passersby who had never seen the warped peach horseshoes, grimaced and stared in shock. One old man (visible in the pic below at the crosswalk) said, "What the hell is that thing? It's so ugly!" I told him it was from outer space and we need to find away to send it back.

 
How thoughtful of the blow torch artist to incorporate seating in case someone wanted to sit under the twisted orange arches and make their ass sore.