Barbie Flaunts her Bikini Body!!!

 

Barbie Flaunts her Bikini Body!!!

Hot breaking news!

 

 

 

For immediate release:

 

Barbie, in a hyperbolic paparazzi event, flaunted her bikini body, this morning on Bodacious Bitch Beach.  In that breathy Marilyn voice, which she parrots perfectly, she said, "I want to thank all the little people".  Her joints are especially sexy.

 

Her team orchestrated this exciting publicity event to promote The Nine Inch Dolls Real Reality Show.  Barbie, "The Bauble", is the most mega of the show's stars.  When questioned about the authenticity of the show she said, "I know that some people think that the show is a hoax,  but what we show really is real, as real as reel can be.  We wouldn't call it reality is there was a script.   I really am a dumb blonde. Really. Duh!"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Let's Gossip Barbie, 2

 

Barbie, Cat Eyed

 

Let's Gossip Barbie, 2

 

 

Paris Harlot, are you listening?  If you would stop tweeting for just a few minutes I will tell you about last night's episode of the Nine Inch Dolls Real Reality Show.  It opened just like the end of the previous episode. Lucille Ball and Desi Arnez hosted a star studded forty forth year of their divorce celebration. 

Oh, you ARE listening?  I didn't know that you could multitask, tweet and listen at the same time.  I thought that you could not even walk and chew gum at the same time. (Paris Helvetica  is looking a little better, her eyes are clearing up, I think that the tequila is helping her monstrous hangover.  Where are her style team?  She needs help before the paparazzi find her.)

Sitting at the Holyhell Starbucks, Paris Pissy and I scanned the area for celebrities.  OMG I eat, sleep, and drink celebrities, 24/7.  Where would we be without these celestial deities brightening our dull lives with their colorful divorces and their flaunted bikini bodies.  I am so excited to be sitting with Princess Hellion that I am wetting my pants. Thank goodness I wore my Dior diaper, advertised by no less than The Fonz.  You do remember Henry Winkler, don't you dahlin'?

The first shot of the real true reality show that beamed to my 555 inch HD screen, was set in the immaculate conception room of Lucy and Dizzy's 333 room humble abode.  Cameras #1, 2 and 3, recorded the guests grazing on organic palm hearts and gold plated carrots. 

From the kitchen cam feed, I saw Lucy and Desi  throwing dishes at each other and screeching like zombies.  It was amazing, her frothy strawberry updoo stayed perfectly in place as she wound up to hurl a Wedgwood turkey platter.

No, Poufy, it IS a REALITY show.  There are no writers.  Lucy really is dizzy and Desi really is loose, they are not acting.  Do you think that they would call it reality if there was a script?  Duh.

To help the guest in the party room ignore the ruckus from the angry Arnezes, The Rolling Stones turned up the volume. Mick Jagger strutted like a monkey on Mountain Dew. 

Dahlinn absolutely all the most celebrated, inebriated, torticulated dolls attended.  Barbie's gorgeous gown of pink Uranus worm silk was so short that it was just a belt.  Ken was just the perfect escort, lovely eye candy.  GI Joe dressed out in fatigues, but sported a samurai sword as a bow to the formality of the occasion.  Hovering around the bar Dirty Harry squinted at Tweedledee and Tweedledum.  Abraham Lincoln pontificated with Bill Clinton while Monica Lewenski batted her lashes at honest Abe.  Absolutely every doll who is any doll was preening and posturing at that party.  I spotted Yoda (he is adorable, do you think that he is too old to have sex?).  Over by the champagne fountain Mama Dearest, the Talking Car danced dirty with the double ought seven Daniel Craig.  

Pitty Patty Halibutt, listen up, I am getting to the good part.  The kitchen cam zoomed in on Lucy and Dazy throwing butcher knives, both were bleeding, I guess that it was reality blood. 

 




On the stage Keith Richards, looking as usual like chic death warmed over, threw an original Keith Haring canvas at Mick.  OMG, Mick turned into a red devil, and OMG flames engulfed the stage.  No shit, his eyes turned Tabasco red and those 'I can eat the world lips' turned summer saults. You know, (I whisper,) he is a shockaholic. That devil frightened me so much that I laughed.  But, Prissy Hellion, the most interesting activity happened in the shadows, behind the bar, where the EavesDropKam was focused.  I zoomed in and enhanced the contrast of the screen. 

Picture this,  Bauble and Kane were sitting on the red velvet love seat.  There was such a free for all, what with the guest heaving furniture at each other, and the sound of bombs bursting in the kitchen, that they thought no one was watching them.  They did not see the EavesDropKam survey them with x ray vision from behind the flaming stage.  I have eyes like Sherlock Holmes (who could not attend because he is trying to solve  the Wikiwhistle narcolepsy case).  In the shadows I saw Barbie serve Ken a tall Kahlua and a yummy kannabis brownie.

The screen shifted back to kitchen cam where Lucy wrenched the sink off the wall (she is stronger than she looks) and threw it at Daisy, who countered with the Chiefs Food Fantasia Oven.  If they were flesh and not plastic they would be dead.  Nine inch dolls are immortal.

On stage Keith Richards unsheathed his laser sword and twirled that scathing scimitar 180x3 degrees. Jagger Devil was a flaming hell dragon and strutted like a Clydesdale at a Mardi Gras parade.  The stage was alight with a combustion that did not consume.

By the sofa, Mae West performed falafel on Superman.

Angelina and Brad bellyed up to the bar and toasted New Orleans.

Mila Kunis demonstrated her talents with a banana.

Audrey Hepburn swan necked under the most flattering lamp light.  She, and she alone was elegantly composed.  Like the eye of Katrina.

In the shadows, Bauble gave Ken three red secobarbietols, which he swallowed quickly, having been warmed up with chocolate psychoactives. In less than three split seconds he stumbled up the stairs followed by camera man #33.  He lurched into the first bedroom where Elvis and Marilyn were humping like humdingers.  Then he passed out on the carpet in a puddle of puke.


To be continued.....
To see more of the story click "Newer Post", at the bottom of this entry.

Lets Gossip Barbie, 1

 

Barbie, TV Head 



Let's Gossip Barbie, 1

  

"Lets gossip about Barbie, now that she has gone shopping.  We are sitting on the Starbucks patio on Holyhell Boulevard.  It is a beautiful morning, I mean afternoon, exhaust fumes from the constipated Boulevard traffic are wafting in the breeze. Across the table from me sits THE Paris Harlot.  The most famous for being famous person in the entire celebrity sphere.

We sip Celestial Green Tea laced with tequila, and nibble on no calorie, no fat, no gluten, no additives, preservatives or artificial color croissants.
 

"Do you know, Pussy Paris, that Barbie has been shopping everyday for the past fifty six years.  Her closet is the size of a warehouse.  Have you seen it?  It is a giant pink sequin building that dwarfs her purple rhinestone ranch house.  She has three miles of automated revolving clothing racks snaking through the building.  She has a shoe room of towering glass display cases housing a hundred thousand plastic fetishes.

 

What do you think about that, Princess Hilton?  You admire her!  But she has a closet large enough to house a Afghani refugee camp comfortably. No, don't tell me, you want an even bigger closet?  One as big as the Superdome?  Well, we all have a right to our own opinions even when they indicate hydrocephalic greed that will eat us alive.  Did you hear me?  What are you tweeting?  I just don't go for that conceited conspicuous consumption crap.  Well, I think that conspicuous consumption is soooo tacky, but sometimes I slip myself up.  We are only human. 

 

And tell me, Partie Hartie, what is with Barbie's feet?  Those useless appendages as deformed as the lotus flower feet of abused Chinese girls?  Malformed feet for masochistic shoes.  What is that about, Paris Piranha?  Can you explain it to me?

 

Oh, now I get it, teeter totter tumble toes makes Mr. Happy stand up and cheer.  How strange!  You mean to tell me that men are turned on by women who are as unstable as toddlers? How weird!

 Human organisms never cease to boggle the brain.  Here we are, beings of complicated and elegant neurochemical processes,  millions of muscle, blood, and nerve cells working together in harmony, sending zillions of data bits to the brain, for what?  An amazing chorus of chemical interactions, electrical ion exchanges and etherical energies coordinating muscles and intentions, all for what?  All this intricate pituitary, thyroid, adrenal, not to mention gonadal hormones in a hemodynamic dance of science and mystery, all culminating in what?  Zillions of data bits flooding the brain in a constant stream, interfacing with the mind.  The mind, the irrational, unpredictable, self seeking mind.  We have a brain! The most elegant computer in the world! A brain/mind.  The mind that thinks it is the CEO of the metaorganism but screws things up right and left.  Producing behavior that has no rational or pragmatic basis. Minds that have created masterpieces,  the Mona Lisa, the Sidney Opera House, and Drago's grilled oysters, but minds will also make a man salivate over a woman toddling clumsily in dangerous and painful footwear?  We think that we are rational, sensible beings, but, our hardwiring commits us to stupidity.  Emotions almost always trump intelligence. It boggles the brain.  But, who knows, maybe it is better this way.  You know, I am confused. Oh, and inappropriate, did I mention inappropriate?  And so the earth spins round.

Are you listening Princess Harlot?  Oh, you are tweeting your worshipful fans?  What is trending?  So Mr. Happy salutes masochistic stilettos.  The neurons are flabbergasted on so many levels. By the way, where did you get those marvelous Louboutin Sky Heels?  Do they come in turquoise?  I must have a pair. 

Sorry, Prissy, I know my rant is boring.  Thank goodness you brought your IPod.  Seen any good tweets lately?  What is trending?

Did you catch the Nine Inch Dolls Reality Show last night?  No? You saw it last week, right.  Lucy and Desi were celebrating their seventy seventh wedding anniversary.  All the glitterati nine inch dolls were there, and the Stones were playing.  Yes, you saw it, yes, it was sooo exciting.  But last night you passed out too early and missed it?  Not to worry, I will tell you all about it.  You will not believe what Barbie is up to now. 

To be continued. A jabberwacky short story in four parts. To get to the next part of the story, click "Newer Post", at the bottom of this entry.
 

 

   

Wikipedia, Interesting Info Bits

This is what Wikipedia says about Japanese bound feet:

 

The practice possibly originated among upper class court dancers in the early T'ang dynasty in Imperial China (11th or 10th century), but spread and eventually became common among all but the lowest of classes. Eventually foot binding became very popular because men thought it to be highly attractive. Foot binding became Chinese women's way of being beautiful, and a way to show that they were worthy of a husband. The foot binding process begins with a young girl (4-7 years old)  Next, every toe would be broken except for the big toe.
 

Another interesting titbit, Shakespeare quote 

Last night I was watching "Hamlet"  and noticed that  this soliloquy was similar to my confused rant.
Of course, he said it not only first, but also, better.

What a piece of work is a man!
How noble in reason! How infinite in faculties!
In form and moving, how express and admirable!
In action how like an angel!
In apprehension how like a god!
The beauty of the world!
The paragon of animals!
And yet, to me, what is this quintessence of dust?”
― William Shakespeare, Hamlet


Bye now, be safe, be happy and avoid the clap.

Best Friend Channel Update

Best Friend Channel

Be a best friend to your best friend, turn on the Best Friend Channel

 

 

To the Investors and Supporters of the Best Friend Channel

 Someone has stolen my idea!  I saw an ad on TV for another doggie channel.  I thought of this first!  Do you think that we can sue the idea thieves?  Well, nevermind, why bother?  because the programming for the Best Friend Channel will shit bomb the programming of our competition.  We have award winning beauty and fashion specials, exercise, meditation and educational programming all this just for fido.  Top that you dirty dogs. 

 

 

Be an Angel, Invest Today!

 

There are still a few spots open for investors on all levels. 

 

 

Silver Angel Investor positions cost $10,000. Silver Angels will receive a framed and signed portrait of the Stratosphere Star, Princess Fou Fou.

 

Gold Angel Investor positions are $100,000.  Gold Angels are entitled to a dinner date with Princess Fou Fou at The Commander's Palace ten star restaurant in New Orleans.

 

Platinum Angel Investor Positions are for those exalted angels who invest One cool million dollars. Platinum Angels will be entitled to receive Princess Fou Fou's first born puppy. 

 

 

Be an Angel today!!! Investor Positions are going fast.  Get yours now.  Just send a check to my address or call me for info on direct deposit.

 

 

 

 

Hollywood Kiss

HOLLYWOOD KISS

 

The composition is like a see-saw.  Stable/unstable.  A dynamic pyramid. Yin/yang.

 

The weather is lovely.  Beautiful here at Silver Creek.  Temperature perfect.  The privet trees are blooming like snow on the large, scraggly hedge.  Allergies and bugs abound.  Carpenter bees chew up the house and dive bomb humans.  Mosquitos prick skin with ting sensations.  Just the price of living in paradise.  Gotta go now.  The riding mower is fixed, will mow.  The jungle is advancing.  I will battle the jungle forces with the mower.  Don't battle the jungle, work in harmony??

 

 

Like,  I have a libertine past.  I am not sure that it was worth all the effort.  Oh, what am I saying, of course it was worth the effort.

Audrey Hepburn, Bugeyed

 

Audrey Hepburn, Bug-eyed, Bobble Headed Buffoon

 with Princess Fou Fou

 

Without doubt, the all time, most elegant woman who ever lived is Audrey Hepburn. Because of her position on top of the admiration pyramid, I could not resist messing with her face.  Because of her sacred position in the Follywood pantheon, I could not resist making fun with her legendary image.

 

 The work started with a portrait of Audrey, which I had created, maybe a year ago? A beautiful, digital gamin face.  I thought,"What else can I do with this?"  I put it in the liquefy function of Photoshop and enlarged the eyes. BUG-eyed.  Delighted, I thought, "Wow! This is a fresh salad." 

 

"What next?" I snickered?  Browsing my picture documents, a fun thought tickled my brain.  Enough, already.  Audrey has been gracefully bedecked in couture for long enough.  Now, let her be a buffoon.  While giggling, I sewed her head to a clown body.  "Bobble headed!" I exclaimed, and made it happen, I blew up her head.

 

 

 I went with the circus clown theme, using element files from my documents.  This is one of the coolest things about Photoshop, I have painted a collection of characters, elements, environments, backgrounds, and special effects, all stored in my documents, all waiting in the sidelines until they can star in another picture.     

 

The outrageously clashing Princess Fou Fou, is patterned after, who else, the real Princess Fou Fou, who keeps me quiet, sweet company at this moment, laying on the deer skin rug that Mr. T made.  Her Majisty barks at thunder.  Awfully raucous, what with all the thunderstorms that pass through.  This adorable ball of fuzz will chase a storm.  She charges lightening with her most ferocious threats.  I say,  "Fou Fou, that is God that you are challenging.  Are you crazy?"  She doesn't listen to me. Also, I told her to go to the spa and get the tangles worked out of her hair, but, she still didn't listen. 

 

The floor of the circus is adapted from another world famous icon,  the rose window of Notre Dame in Paris.  I hope that Fou Fou does not poop on this sacred mandala. 

 

This is how I amuse myself.  It came together, and made me smile, this lightly sacrilegious tossed salad. 

 

Kitten Cherub and Rosie are performing their flying act.  Amusing.  Light and fluffy.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Phoenix Dance

Phoenix Dance

 

 

Phoenix Dance

 The Persistence of Symbols of Rebirth 

 

 

 Phoenix is the comeback kid of mythology.  Phoenix is the rebirth and resurrection bird of persistent worship.  She lives a thousand years, for a thousand years she soars and sails, she surfs, on streams of cool clear air.  After an eon of living, her clock runs down, and then she fulfills her destiny to crash and burn.  From the purification of fire, from the ashes of her own autocremation the Phoenix is reborn to soar another thousand years. 

 

Lets face it y'all, life is hard.  Sometimes it seems that all is lost. Failure and exhaustion, are universally a part of human existence. It is a wheel, a roller coaster, an enlightening adventure. Success and joy, failure and defeat.

 

The wheel of Fortuna turns round and round.  We go up and we go down. We all know, there will be change, sunshine; before a driving rain. Light and dark, day and night, Our spirit, engaged will take a flight.

 

When we crash and burn,  we NEED to see the phoenix at the end of the tunnel. Hope keeps us going.  Hope is the sperm of rebirth.  DNA is in the egg and the egg is in the DNA. 

 

At the bottom swing on the wheel of Fortuna cycle, we may be crushed or we may tap into rebirth.  Mind, body and spirit are resurrected with the will to soar.  The ashes of defeat contain the diamonds of a comeback. 

 

 Phoenix analogies, regeneration myths are found in all cultures, world wide.  Universally cosmologies offer a resurrection from the ashes of failure story.  Russians, Native Americans, Turks, Pacific Islanders, Tibetans and Japanese offer regeneration mythologies.  The crucifixion and resurrection of Jesus also mines the human need for reinvention. 

 

The emblem of the Phoenix has been used frequently in  literature and movies.  Ex: " Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix."  Drug rehab facilities are named Phoenix, because even Lindsey Lohan may grab the reins of the marvelous Phoenix and rise to a pristine palace of potential.  Technologies and rockets are named for the bird of rebirth.  The rocket is in our soul, keep hope.

 

Universally throughout history, there is a cavernous human longing for the hope of rebirth.  The persistence of resurrection myths demonstrate the persistence of the human need for a comeback.

 

The Making of Phoenix Flying Dance

 

I finished this digital image today.  I am excited to see how the print will turn out.  I would like to further develop the image into an oil painting. I can not promise you that this will be created, because I have a lot of images in the pipeline.  Paintings are circling in my head like helicopters over Louis Armstrong airport after Katrina.  (Yea, I know, I used this metaphor already, but I like it enough for repetition.)

 

For reference, I harvested the ballet dancer image from the web.  In the tossing of the dancer image from web site to search engine, and all around the world, for forty times or more, the name of the exquisite dancer and the name of the master photographer, who captured her flying leap, frozen gracefully for all time in midair, have been, regretfully, lost.  Thus, it is called an orphan image.

 

 I changed the low rez web picture digitally. It has been totally painted in Photoshop.  Colors, lines, shapes, all have been interpreted.  If anyone can supply me with the names of the artists who created the image, I will be grateful to know and publish the contributors names. If the artists object to the mess that I have made of their beautiful creation, then I will destroy the pictures. 

 

Nothing is created in a vacuum.  Artists do not just pull a full blown creation out of the isolated personal cerebrosphere.  Inspiration comes from imagination, from experience, from nature, and especially from the creations of other artists.  Each artist interprets, creates, art from the soup of all that is.  There is a current of development flowing through all work. Artist have been borrowing from each other since the second fertility goddess was carved with stone from stone. And, there is persistent cross fertilization between the various artistic disciplines.  How blessed we are, to be able to stand on the shoulders of giants. 

 

Before digital painting, before web images, I scoured galleries, art museums, and books, with hungry eyes.  I now delight in the banquet of beauty and inspiration that I find so easily on my computer.  (But will never replace the nirvana of seeing an actual paint and canvas masterpiece.)  Artistic options, like the options of most other endeavors, have been expanded by the flickering pixils museum in a box.  Just as the new technology of photography fired the imagination of the impressionists, giving them the theory of broken light/broken color, in the latter decades of the 1800's, current technologies fire the creative edge of art today.