Showing posts with label Defense. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Defense. Show all posts

Wednesday, January 1, 2014

In Defense of Pitbull

It’s a genuine question. I’m not saying Pitbull (real name: Armando Christian PĂ©rez) is secretly Joni Mitchell or anything; I think we can all agree that his songs blow, unless perhaps you are rolling on E at a rave in 1999. I’m also not vouching for Pitbull personally, because I don’t know him — although Wikipedia says that he got arrested for drunk driving in 2007, and that’s no good.

While I have no real feelings on Pitbull himself, I have noticed a disproportionate amount of Twitter hate for him, which I have illustrated below.

Obviously Twitter is infamous for its mob mentality, all piling on someone at once until the next easy-to-mock chump comes along. And the Pitbull-trolling didn't stop there — the Kodiak, Alaska episode illustrates just how vehemently people hate the guy, as well as his good nature for actually going out to Kodiak and putting on a show.

Pitbull isn’t an enemy of the state, or a racist, or some other variation of hate-spewing pond scum who’s often (fairly) attacked en masse on Twitter. He just seems like a garden variety tool, like any number of middle-aged Billboard 100 “artists” who feature on more famous people’s tracks and dress like wannabe-cool dads at awards shows. And as far as I'm concerned, there are tons of equally — if not more — reprehensible celebrities out there, molesting, raping, hate-spewing, battering and generally using the toga of citizenship to throw a toga party. There's Chris Brown, Alec Baldwin, Mel Gibson, Ted Cruz, Sarah Palin, Woody Allen, Eminem, R. Kelly… you can go on and on. While they were on vacation in Ireland in 1987, Matthew Broderick and Jennifer Grey hit and killed two women with their car. You know how many women Pitbull has killed in car accidents? 0.00 women, that's how many.

(And the Honda commercial Broderick starred in a few years ago shows roughly how much he's dwelled on the accident since.)

Ultimately, what's Pitbull guilty of? Being lame, right? And that's it? The hatred seems a little bit disproportionate. It should be saved for things that truly deserve it, like Sea World or die-hard Second Amendment advocates or Justin Bieber's graffiti.

So I’m asking you guys: Did Pitbull Instagram a picture of a koala he murdered? Did he ruin Christmas? Unless someone informs me that Pitbull actually assassinated Archduke Franz Ferdinand of Austria and started World War I, the way I feel about Pitbull is the way I feel about actual pit bulls: Mostly harmless and unfairly maligned.

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Photo Credit: Getty


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Friday, December 27, 2013

In Defense of the Dick Pic

The status quo of dick pic reception has been basically the same since the first known dick pic, a crude illustration scrawled on a Cro-Magnon woman’s cave wall by her boyfriend about 40,000 years ago. She was having her friends over, and showed them, and they were all like, “Ew! Dick pics are gross. Why do they think we like dick pics?!” We have iPhones and more aesthetically pleasing foreheads and stuff now, but the conversation has not really changed. But I am here to say that I like dick pics. Not completely out of context, not unsolicited dick pics from random men, but as far as I’m concerned, a photograph of an erect penis that I know and like is the equivalent of a bunch of flowers or a greeting card: I know he’s thinking of me.

The men I am around have been way more cautious about sending naked photos than women. When a guy I am seeing lives far away, somehow I always find myself practically begging for a dick pic, like Oliver Twist would for a second bowl of cold orphanage gruel. Then I wind up art-directing them, because guys (straight ones, at least) don’t know what the hell they’re doing. They don’t carefully light, pose and select the best options from a set of shots like we do. They take one sheepish picture. Of their dick. In poor lighting.

Nearly every woman I know has sent partly topless and full topless shots freely. And I — let’s put it this way, I can never run for public office. But no naked-picture subject is as unfairly lambasted as the dick pic. Sure, it’s been abused in the past! Maybe some guy from OK Cupid once sent you a halfie with a subject line like ;) for u. Or some guy you slept with once a few months ago sent you an awkwardly angled mostly-balls photo at 3 a.m. There are always going to be people who misuse the privilege of dick pics, but that doesn’t mean it’s not a legitimate form of sexting that, yes, some women are into.

As for the context, personally, I like my dick pics presented to me after it’s been made clear via sexting that I’m the reason that the guy has an erection. It’s nice to get visual proof of your sex appeal, especially if you have the lingering insecurities of extra pounds or Hot Topic T-shirts or frizzy hair in high school. And if you didn’t, I’m not sure we can be friends.

In conclusion, as we all know from Zoolander, ancient Aboriginals believed that a photograph steals part of your soul. So we might wind up with some soul-impaired penises, but I feel bad for Aboriginal women. They must have been really bored when they couldn't fall asleep.

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Photo Credit: HBO


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Wednesday, December 25, 2013

In Defense of the Boring Online Dating Profile

Guys with boring online dating profiles are the most underrated, untapped resource that those sites have to offer. They're regularly overlooked on dating sites for their straightforwardness, lack of snark or pretentious quotes — but in person, these guys can be funny, attractive, sharp, and simply better than some guy whose profile sparkled with quips and had an appealing, unique edge. Often, the people who are best at grabby profiles are horribly awkward and neurotic in person. I should know. I'm one of them.

By this logic, just because the Boring Online Dating Profile Guy isn't as adept at expressing himself in writing doesn't mean he's boring in real life. Plus, he might have a great job, many clean and nicely ironed dress shirts, smell like Dove, and exercise regularly. In movies, this archetype is consistently used as the pathetic foil of the turbulent, devil-may-care on-and-off boyfriend — the true love of the heroine’s life. The good-on-paper guy is meant to represent the wrong choice, the easy path, and a lifetime of blandness, and the poor guy gets left at the altar by Katherine Heigl as soon as Gerard Butler crashes through the church wall on his Harley, or whatever.

Let’s not confuse this with Nice Guy Syndrome, that obnoxious thing where men complain that women overlook them in favor of assholes because they’re just “too nice.” (Actually, it’s because they keep insisting on pointing this out. It’s like holding the door for an old lady or rescuing a kitten from a tree and then screaming about it at the top of your lungs. Who wants to date that?) Those aren’t the kind of guys I’m talking about. The ones I’m referring to are nice in a quiet way, not flashy or douchey or constantly "on" the way a lot of creative people are. A grown man who does his dishes, pays his own rent, calls his mom, doesn't have a carefully cultivated joke Twitter account and isn't in a noise band called Fingerbang is immensely attractive to me.

After choosing the on-and-off turbulence for years ("He smells like exciting!" your dumb brain says), you eventually come around to the idea that stability and maturity don’t denote “boring,” because “interesting” doesn’t really exist as one isolated category. Say you pick guys based only on how witty their profiles are. You might end up with a dude who says shit like “Dead flowers inspire me as an artist” or “Your melancholia is beautiful” and doesn’t take off his porkpie hat during dinner. That is truly boring. On the other hand, someone with a straightforward profile — no bons mots or hilarious anecdotes, just a mention that his favorite movie is Casablanca like the rest of the universe — can be witty, charming, and refreshingly un-self absorbed. It aligns with my good texters : bad boyfriends :: bad texters : good boyfriends theory.

Zero in-person chemistry is an immediate dealbreaker for any sane person, but basically, the fatal flaw of dating sites is that they don't account for the major in-person factors that make or break attraction: mannerisms, voice, smell, the sexy way he pushes his hair back, all the other things you can't wedge into "favorite bands" or "the six things you can't live without." I’m the last person to suggest that women be with someone they’re not in love with or could never see themselves falling in love with, but I am suggesting that going with the witty profile every time might be limiting your options. You shouldn't make assumptions about people just because they'll potentially hang out with you during the day and have a good work ethic and cook with well-cleaned kitchen tools from Williams-Sonoma. Also, Casablanca is a really great movie.

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Via Getty


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Friday, April 19, 2013

In Defense of Gwyneth Paltrow, the Most Hated Celebrity According to <i>Star</i>


It was the strangest coincidence: Two days ago I re-subscribed to Gwyneth Paltrow’s ridiculous but simultaneously amusing/endearing goop after realizing the weekly editions were trapped in my old Yahoo account. I was tempted to make fun of myself on Twitter and then didn’t… because I actually have a soft spot for Gwynnie.

No less than 24 hours later, I read the news that Miss Paltrow landed herself at the top of Star’s Most Hated Celebrities poll, beating out Chris Brown, John Mayer, and yes, even Anne Hathaway.

Forget the fact that she keeps her kids on a carb-free diet. Here are five reasons I love Apple's mom, in no particular order:

1. She has a fantastic, sophisticated sense of style. From long black gowns to sophisticated pantsuit, I'd do a wardrobe swap with her any time.

2. She's nice to look at. What can I say? I'm a sucker for high cheekbones and sleek blonde hair.

3. She's no Adele, but the Academy Award-winning actress has decent pipes. I admit, I listened to the Country Strong theme song more than a few times.

4. Three words: Shakespeare in Love. Emma, Sliding Doors, The Talented Mr. Ripley and The Royal Tenenbaums all produced great performances. But there are few sexier—and more romantic—movie scenes than the first steamy sex scene in Shakespeare in Love when Joseph Fiennes (what happened to that hottie??) unravels Gwynnie from her “bondage.”

5. Her BFF is Beyonce. Need I say more?

Credit: ABC

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