Afternoon Links: Justin Bieber, the Urine Bucket, and the Cup
You can really tell when an article (a term used loosely, because this piece is over at TMZ) is written by someone whose personal history has been marked by mopping a commercial floor. When Justin Bieber let his stream of magical pop-piss fly into a restaurant’s mop bucket, the author of this thing didn’t hold back. I sympathize. I sported the flair, and if I’d had to mop floors with urine, I would have felt saltier than a basket of breadsticks drizzled with the most umami honey mustard in the fast-casual land. One should put pee where pee goes — this is the first, and most important, step in avoiding widespread global anarchy. The second is to never spritz a photo of Bill Clinton with off-brand Windex. TREASON! Can we give Bieber a pass for stepping on the Blackhawks logo, though? Yahoo Sports has a pretty good point on why this is a low-grade criminal offense: Floor logos are a “stupid tradition. ‘Hey, let’s put a giant thing in the middle of a high-traffic area and not allow people to touch it.’ Dummies.”
- George R.R. Martin shows you the closest visual approximation of the Iron Throne. Count dem swords. Thousands. #demswords
- Well, they did say they’d be morphin‘.
- The “Look at My Shit” Spring Breakers dance remix will be the soundtrack for all future Girls in Hoodies sleepover parties.
- Michael B. Jordan + Spider-Man = <3
- Daft Punk condoms for your swinging disco lifestyle.
- I’VE ABANDONED MY BOOK!
- Advance praise for Elysium.
- Someone is thinking hard about Sharknado.
- Believe me, I hate myself more than you hate me for linking to photos of Brandi Glanville dressed in 3 inches of gauze and accessorizing with her tampon string while out with “her gays.” I just feel as though it needs to be included in our cultural conversation because it annihilates every other possible wardrobe malfunction from here on out.
- Your Comic-Con party agenda.
- Let’s just call them the bug awards, since the Webbies have been claimed as something else.
- There is no geographical solution to the emotional problems of dog-food tasters/vampire slayers/criminal embalmers/seasonal zombies.