LADY GODIVA: The Naked Truth

James Charles has been touted around for "making history" and "breaking gender norms" since he's become  the first male to be a CoverGirl. That statement only makes sense if wearing makeup itself was "normal" but as it's not - he's certainly not breaking anything; Mr. Charles is instead merely conforming to an already--and ancient--abnormal construct.  The cultural use of cosmetics for both male and female is an ancient practice.  It's nothing new.  CoverGirl is merely touting this notion to expand makeup sales, and is definitely using sensationalism to accomplish this.  It's a marketing gimmick, a ploy.  Although cosmetics have been used for centuries in religious rituals, to enhance beauty, and to promote good health, with the recent CoverGirl launch of "So Lashy" they'd have you believing that mascara was just invented.  It wasn't. Cosmetic pioneer Eugene Rimmel--founder of the British House of Rimm

Strange, is your southern comfort. A cracked withering queen. Your meat's not free range. Heightening nothing but your senses. But oh, what a scene.  Lowering your sensibilities.  Forgetting your responsibilities.  There's no humanity in your consumption.  Fully dubious, that there ever was. Comes the time, for retribution.  She's got money for make-up, clothes, booze, 'n' drugs. She's got time for temptations, corruption, hoes, 'n' thugs. Another selfie in the bathroom. Another boy in the bedroom. Huffing perfume.  Putting filters on her eyes.   Now she never cries. Just screams. Like she screamed in the ride      to the hospital     to the therapist  Life makes it hard to cope     when you're related     to your rapist  Love can make you lie,     make you acquiescent     when he looks you in the eye     as he did, as an adolescent       demanding you now stop your ye

Bae, baby, babe      You creed and my steed,  wearing bloodied organs on your sleeve.      As if I could do more than adore in the dark      As if the physics in our physical  weren’t pure bionic spark.  I’m standing stark Naked. & I didn’t fake it This bed?— don’t make it. Because now when I get a sore from my shoe -      I'm stuck thinking of you           down in the muck, and the uck, and the goo...  I love, eww...

The Shallows was a spectacular movie, it's such an awesome movie, I honestly don't even want to remotely ruin the movie for you if you're here reading this and haven't seen it yet, but I did want to comment on the content and context of both JAWS and The Shallows , do a basic compare and contrast of the two.   JAWS was based on Peter Benchley's 1974 novel of the same tittle , a book I've actually read and here's a shocker from the book that wasn't included in the 1975 film: Police Chief Martin Brody's wife was totally having an affair with oceanographer Matt Hooper. Interesting how the sexuality of an adulteress got axed from the original plot-line , huh? * JAWS was an exceedingly male focused film and prior to the days of on-demand streaming content and binge watching on Netflix, people of my generation grew-up with re-runs. JAWS used to run non-stop on television, seemingly almost constantly while growing up. The opening scene of the

Truth be told,      as if the truth is ever told It's bold, whilst you're emboldened In the streets, beholden to no one Howling for blood Loud in even louder crowds... You've forgotten That I'm Queen of the Clouds Wolves are merely beasts That grovel at mah feets I'll throw that gavel Through the glass Out onto the gravel Shrill through the shards I cast justice through the crowds Everyone cowering, no, nobody bows To the Queen of the Clouds But my will be ill quill I'll write the fucking song To save the world He's got his sister He's got his son I have no one Towering stoic Female heroic I'll get bi Break through Shackles & shrouds Because I'm the mother fuckin' Queen of the Clouds You can bring the gasoline You can bring the silver silent pellets But your palate is a plate back at my place where you'd feast upon my pelt Never even got felt up Belt stuck Carpet burns on your face Falling somewhere

   I didn't know it was possible for a turd to cost 50 million dollars but as evidenced by Hollywood magick, it most certainly can in the form of a movie that should have never made it into production: The Nice Guys. A completely misleading trailer, it was packaged as a comedy not a mystery/crime film. Since nobody gives a shit about movie posters or their taglines anymore, except those living in a realm of nostalgia, had I known the tagline on this waste of space POS was "Nice Pair - This Summer" I wouldn't have seen it because that awful "phrasing" alone would have clued me on not wasting the two hours of my life that I can never get back.  The nice pair are certainly boobs but of the yahoo variety, however ladies and ladies, we're still going to squeeze them.  In the context of the thing that aspired to be a film, the boobs are wannabe private dicks (ha, ha - get it? "dicks" ) Holland March (Gosling) and Jackson Healty (Crowe).  But