A NSFW Navy Conversation

Twice a year, the Navys hold a PRT, a physical readiness test. And our command had ours last week. After an angry-gram was emailed out by the Command Fitness Leader (CFL), about forty of us, all decked out in our official Navy PT gear, showed up at the prescribed time and place.

As soon as I got there, another LT took me aside and told me Hey, I gotta talk to you, (while  flashing me bug eyes.) He clarified his statement with: I need to ask you a favor. (And he bugged out some more.)

A favor right before a PT exam usually meant one thing, as in: I am out of shape. And I am worried about failing. 

I followed him to the corner of the room. Hey look man, he said cautiously. You know how I was 48 pounds overweight?

Yeah?

And you know I lost all that weight over the last month.

Yeah?

Well, starting yesterday after weigh-ins, I’ve been eating like an absolute slob.

Yeah?

I had five meals yesterday. Look, I ate a burrito in thirty seconds!

Yeah?

And if I have some eruptions when you are holding my feet for sit-ups, I want to say sorry in advance.

Yeah. Um, thanks.

I am being serious. (He burped into his hand.)

No, I know you are. Let’s go kill this thing. 

I warned you.

Hey man, do your thing.

Eamonn Kilbride and Morgan Miller

Bode Miller's wife Morgan Miller

Morgan Miller

Eamonn Kilbride and Morgan Miller had a rough day. Mr. Kilbride, God bless his soul, passed away at the Thwaites brewery office party dancing PSY’s Gangnam Style. His wife, Julie Kilbride, was at his side at the Whitehall Country Club in Darwen, Lancashire where the event took place.

Keep the Kilbride’s last name in mind when you read this story about  Bode Miller and his wife Morgan Miller: Bode Miller had “just another one of those days” on the golf course. No, he didn’t miss a handful of birdie putts or lose a few balls in the woods — he crushed a ball at his wife’s face in what he is calling his “first major golf catastrophe.” His wife, Morgan Miller, tweeted on Wednesday night that the former skiing champ hit her above the eye with a “160 mph line drive.” Luckily, she was wearing sunglasses and only needed 50-plus stitches instead of a glass eye. The link is not quite NSFW, but it is close. It certainly is not suitable for the squeamish or the faint of stomach.

Art and the Opposite

Over the last fifty years, the art world has seen an influx of nonsense. There is genuine talent in the field and there is the opposite. An example of the latter, Andreas Slominski’s work below, titled Sperm of Two Pilots, which is nothing more than bales of hay*:

Sperm of Two Pilots, Andreas Slominski, 2012 Installation View at Metro Pictures, New York

*Or bales of straw. Being from the city and the burbs, I know it is one or the other. Sorry for the NSFW link. (The NS rating is for utter weirdness and the usual New York debauchery. Although, I did not investigate it enough to really find out what it was all about.)

Update: I read part of the article and it is worse than I thought. That anyone would pay any money to see this bs is beyond me. As usual, ridicule is the best disinfectant.

50 Documentaries to See Before You Die

Yahoo is at it again, with their latest list. They need to have a post, Top 50 Lists on Yahoo. Today’s beauty is:

50 Documentaries to See Before You Die

And if you must know who was on the list, start with ‘dis guy:

AN INCONVENIENT TRUTH (2006) Directed by- Davis Guggenheim

Hmmmm, you know what? I’ll be ok. I don’t really have a strong desire to see the flick. I think I’ll get a massage in honor of the man instead. (NSFW info at the link on the Goracle.)

Mayor Bloomberg, the Lavender Bow-Tie, and the Mankini

I have often poked fun at fashion, so here is another one of that rich vein.
It takes a certain charisma to wear bow ties:

Or try pulling off the mankini.
(Yikes, I did not mean to write “pulling off.” Leave it on, Mayor.)

Self-Promotion: Old Navy Vs. the UFC Vs. Justin Combs

Let’s discuss promotion, an important art in today’s media-mad world.

A Mellow Jihadi Tattoo- for skinny girls, skater boys, slinky women, breakdancers, lucky ladies. In short: everyone

As for myself, in order to promote my blog, I haunt the neoned tattoo parlors up and down the coast of San Diego.

And I slip crisp 20-spots into the skinny jeans of the tattoo artists. With the implied suggestion that, rather than a highly tasteful fleur-de-lis slated for the small of their customers’ back, they tattoo: Mellow Jihadi, instead. Good idea? It can’t hurt, right?

Ben Affleck’s Dolphin Tattoo

After all, Ben Affleck has a tramp stamp of a dolphin. (Or is it a porpoise?) And don’t forget this guy, a tattoo’ist, who tattoo’d a tattoo of something unpleasant on his cheating girlfriend’s back (NSFW. Errr, literarily NSF for most Ws if read aloud.)

Why not this blog’s name? Tattoo’d across the small or big of an unknowing back?

Victoria’s Secret Heidi Klum in the Mellow Jihadi Navy

What do you think of Victoria’s Secret mistaking Michigan State’s motto? Do you think it was a real mistake or intentional, a couple of pop-rocks in the Coca-Cola? Some Mentos (the Freshmaker) in the Pepsi?

Let’s explore three cases of promotion in the national news today.

For our first case study, we are going to stick with the t-shirt world. So close was this train-wreck to the Victoria’s Secret boo-boo, that I am tempted to think that Old Navy is managed by the same geniuses. The facts:

Old Navy is joining the party with a series of women’s collegiate T’s that have the wrong founding years for three institutions.

T-shirts representing Iowa, Colorado and Arizona show that the founding years for each of those universities is 1820, 1878 and 1881 respectively. However, the real founding years for those schools are 1847, 1876 and 1885.

Old Navy University of Iowa, Colorado and Arizona T-shirts

Very clearly, just like Victoria’s Secret, Old Navy did not fact-check their products. Yes, they generated a lot of buzz from the slip-up, but it was not intentional.

Next stop, an old fashioned insult fight at the UFC:

Arianny Celeste, UFC Ring Girl

Chael Sonnen knows how to start a fight. Though his sharp words are usually aimed at UFC middleweight champ Anderson Silva, he turned towards UFC Octagon Girl Arianny Celeste when asked about her in an interview to promote the World MMA Awards.

He was asked who he is supporting for Ring Girl of the Year in the awards ceremony that will take place in Las Vegas on Wednesday.

“We only had one and that was Chandella Powell. The other was the IQ card girl. Arianny Celeste kind of walks around and holds up her latest test score. One time when there was a title fight, she got all the way up to five and we were very proud of her.”

And he later added:

Chael Sonnen, UFC

Seems easy to wear a bikini and seems easy to walk in a circle, but try walking in a circle while wearing a bikini. Talented girl.

I am going to throw the bs flag out over this one. A UFC fighter getting into it with a Ring Girl? No, this is staged promotion. Nothing more than some professional wrestling-esque publicity before the real wrestling-esque fighting. Shonnen does have some shadiness in his recent past, I imagine he is not above bringing it to work.

Our last promotion is the old, dyed-in-the-wool self-promotion of an athlete. Sean Combs’ son, Justin Combs, is a 2-star football player, a cornerback out of New Rochelle, N.Y. And he just committed to UCLA. So he released a press release, of course:

Diddy’s son, Justin Combs sends press release about UCLA

“Today I am truly blessed and thankful to accept my scholarship and give my full commitment to UCLA. Playing Division I football was a lifelong dream of mine, and through hard work I was able to achieve it. I am a living testament that with a strong relationship with God, family, and hard work dreams do come true.”

Hmm, okay. Seems hardworking and earnest, no? But then again, Diddy’s son also said this during the Sweet 16 show on MTV:

“My dad is Diddy, and I’m going to take my throne as the prince of New York.”

And then this on Puffy:

2011 Maybach

At one point, Diddy comes over to his son, who is trying on ridiculously expensive clothes, and stuffs a big wad of cash in his pocket. Combs’ birthday bash is at a New York club called M2, where he’s accompanied by his date, Nicky Minaj, and the affair culminates with Combs receiving a $360,000 Maybach with a personal driver. I didn’t actually know what a Maybach was, but apparently it’s a really, really, really nice car.

Promotion is a fine art. Whether through accident or overt, it can be effective or snort-worthy. Should you see someone with a Mellow Jihadi tattoo, congratulate them on their fine taste. Just don’t tell them about me. . .

The Scam of a Century Could Be Yours for a Million Dollars

Got one for you. You sitting down? Relaxed? Did you take your heart medication?

You may want a generous slab of carrot cake nearby to bury your burning face in. Or some scarves, several of those hermetic Hermes-es, to primally scream into.

What’s got me all jumpy? Art. Modern art, that joke. Take a look at this masterpiece:

When the Roof Begins to Leak, by Martin Kippenberger, scam artist

Does it evoke great feelings of humanity, of God, burbling up from that mysterious place labeled heart? Nope? Me neither. Get this: that piece of junk is worth more than one million dollars!

Some scam, huh? A cleaning lady, bless her dear little soul, tried to clean that black basin at the bottom of the junk:

A determined German cleaner destroyed a piece of art valued at £690,000 by cleaning away what she thought was an unsightly stain from the artwork.

The cleaner got to work on an installation by the late and famed artist Martin Kippenberger at a museum in Dortmund.

Entitled “When It Starts Dripping From The Ceilings” the piece comprised a tower of wooden slats with a plastic bowl at the bottom painted brown to give the impression of discolouration caused by water. The cleaner took the paint to be an actual stain and scrubbed the bowl till it looked new.

What an utter joke the art world has turned into. I have seen children draw more inspiring bumblebee pictures. What did the pompous, pinched museumies have to say about it?

“It is now impossible to return it to its original state,” a museum spokeswoman said, adding that it appeared the cleaner was unaware of museum rules prohibiting cleaning staff getting with 20 centimetres of pieces or art.

Honestly, who cares? I wish that she had thrown it out. Wait, apparently that has happened before! Take a gander at the bag of trash below:

Gustav Metzger’s Recreation of the First Public Demonstration of Auto-Destructive Art, scam

People actually went to the venerable Tate Gallery to look at that piece of garbage above. Yes, the picture with its tattered canvas is all part of a finished project. That bag of trash was what caused the problem:

A bag of rubbish that was part of a Tate Britain work of art has been accidentally thrown away by a cleaner.

The bag filled with discarded paper and cardboard was part of a work by Gustav Metzger, said to demonstrate the “finite existence” of art.

It was thrown away by a cleaner at the London gallery, which subsequently retrieved the damaged bag.

This is fun, is it not? Here is another nightmare by the untalented Damien Hirst:

Damien Hirst’s 2001 Piece O’

(Facepalm) That is art? Guess what happened to it:

In 2001 a cleaner at a London’s Eyestorm Gallery gallery cleared away an installation by artist Damien Hirst, having mistaken it for a pile of rubbish.

The collection of beer bottles, coffee cups and overflowing ashtrays was said to represent the chaos of an artist’s studio.

Enough. I cannot take anymore pain. The last link on art nightmares comes courtesy of Time magazine, a periodical which borrowed its name, as in running on borrowed time. Read: when is it going to go belly up? Or some other more NSFW anatomy up?

This is art:

Winged Victory of Samothrace

A Vroomer:

1935 Duesenberg SJ Speedster “Mormon Meteor”

And a classic:

Amedeo Modigliani’s Jeanne Hebuterne

A landscapey jaunt:

Winslow Homer, Breezing Up

A religious masterpiece:

Leonardo Da Vinci, Last Supper

Maybe:

Rene Magritte, Ceci n’est pas une pipe. But it may be art

Why not:

Ann-Margaret, Dallas in Stagecoach, Norman Rockwell, 1965

Not sure:

Pope Yoda, Star Wars, La Nuova Figurazione Italiana

I took a painful class in college on philosophy and art. I learned nothing other than those two disciplines attract more than your average share of blowhard phonies.

As for the artists that I opened this posts with: wow. Someone actually shelled out money, turtles, quid, for that garbage. Art is an excellent investment. But I could not live with myself if I paid a million dollars for “When the Roof Begins to Leak,” by Martin Kippenberger.

I simply don’t like Kippenberger. Not so with this burger:

Heavenly Masterpiece