But Ricky Martin

Homophobia is lame.

All homophobic rhetoric can be refuted by the simple phrase: BUT RICKY MARTIN! 

How amazing is this man?! 

Yo soy papa indeed Ricky!

My Bestie The Internet!

I have been thinking about the internet a lot lately. There's no denying that I spend hours trawling the interwebs but the question remains whether I really should actually be doing this or if it is as I tend to suspect it is; a really (really) delicious but dangerous time eater that hates my dreams. 

Reasons I like the internet (incomplete list):

1. The Guardian. Sweet baby Jesus. I survived a 9 to 5 thanks to this gem. For realz.

2. Puppy sandwiches, Tumblrs dedicated to Corgis (click, click, you gotta see this), 9GAG and anything utterly ridiculous yet undeniably life affirming (see: puppy sandwiches). 

3. Wiki-fucking-pedia. In varsity I was told to hate it but now free of the shackles of tertiary education, (my bubbe thinks I have a doctorate) I can love and kiss Wiki all I want. Gee whiz, the Random Article button alone deserves mad love.

4. Need I say more? 

5. Good Reads. Quotes from just about any author or book. I am sincerely in love with so many dead people thanks to this website. 

6. My dynamic girlfriend collection. The internet has introduced me to so many beauties. 

a. Julia, oh Julia.

b. Hanneli, sweet Hanneli Mustaparta!

To be continued (basically my back hurts and I need a nap)...

Babies!

So like, it's Tuesday or whatever and you're like damn, can this shit get any worse... 

So you're thinking what'll steez up your day as you go hunting for photographers on the interwebs and looking for that Tumblr win...

One word, many connotations... Babies. 

Yip them kids, the larvae of our race. I've never been as happy as those days when the sun was a thing to love and muthafuckin shorts were the order of the day.  

And then at the end of this munchkin type style hunt, you're like "fuck the kids".

Tommy's Post: Alonso Mateo!

This kid is four. I want to say fuck you little kid, but I can't, because that would be... well yeah, we all know what that would be. I see the life of Johnny Bravo for this kid, mainly cause there's no picture where you can see his eyeballs and I can picture him laying down his mack on Heather when he's like 5 cause of that pout in picture 2.

And anyway the kids swag is like dripping all over his pram and cuffed jeans. Swagu! 

Jelly Babies!

Babies are amazing. Especially when they look like this. 

Doutzen Kroes!

Doutzen Kroes. Doutzen Kroes. Doutzen Kroes. 

I have the habit (some would say annoying habit) of wilding out with certain words or phrases.
I will repeat the specific word or phrase with a Tourettes-like regularity until a new word or phrase takes over.

Right now that golden phrase is "peche gourmand". It's a tea flavour; I have no worthwhile excuse...

I'm in the shower... peche gourmand! I'm driving... peche gourmand!

Once upon a time, much to Tommy's dismay my chosen mantra was the one and only Doutzen Kroes.

I was so obsessed that I googled her and realised that she is worthy of such attention.
What an enjoyable couple! And that baby is pure gold! Doutzen Kroes! 

Black & White

Stylish Daddies!

Forget mewellery (men's jewellery). 

Forget GQ's must-have list. Hell, always forget that. 

Babies, cute and chubby babies are the hottest accessory for any man. 

Stylish Babies!

Swag. Baby Swag.

If babies can do it, there is absolutely no excuse for the rest of us.

Like I always say, without even a smidgen of sarcasm, looking good isn't important, it's everything.